Poetry: chick-a-dee – Colleen Choate

Colleen Choate

When I remember you, you were a body
and I am just

a chick-a-dee-dee
things are squishy
meaning our skin is the outermost
layer of our brain

meaning I’m a sprained ankle
your hand swallows my wrist
and our stomachs have almost
as many neurons
we’re just the wet leaves stuck to
the window
we’re just hot, wet mouths in
the rain