by Sari Krosinsky
After the bus at the head of the line
is de-boarded, inspected, and re-boarded,
the dew-faced, khaki-clad blond asks us
if we’re citizens. All three of you? she asks.
Yes, we chorus a second time. We’re all
white, so our word is good. I couldn’t bear
to be kept from you, the way borders
are thrust between other lovers.
After the blond releases us, I’m impatient
with every pause, every mile that divides
me from you. If I’d been born a little south
instead of a lot east, iron might divide us.
The glass glitter of Albuquerque reflects
below as we top the last hill. Soon, you’ll
be holding me. Soon, the dew-faced blond
will stop someone she won’t let pass.
Sari Krosinsky's first full-length book, god-chaser, is forthcoming from CW Books. She co-authored a chapbook, Yossele: a tale in poems, with Robert Arthur Reeves. She publishes Fickle Muses,
an online journal of mythic poetry and fiction. Her poems appear
regularly in literary and genre magazines. She received a B.A. in
religious studies and M.A. in creative writing from the University of
New Mexico. She lives in Albuquerque, N.M., with her partner and cat.
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