Pink Morning Prayer — hooligan mag

by Khalisa Rae

after sky fractures a magenta
symphony, I lay praise to bridled
breathless at my neck—subtle restraint that used to get me off
say amen to falling on my knees

and blowing a F sharp— the metallic of your notes
melting in my mouth as I dance a twisted concerto

trombone this body, break this spine like a wind
instrument
to you, I was a drum, flesh stretched over a hollowed
thing, so I lay flat and give in

let you beat—crash against this boars hide
am I good enough, now am I enough now
that I am still, and not moving
is that how you like me, encased at your lap
and under your feet
but I echo, reverberate like brass in your absence

I echo violet when you aren’t around to hear me

Khalisa Rae is an award-winning poet and journalist based in Durham, NC. She is the author of Ghost in a Black Girl's Throat (Red Hen Press 2021). Her essays are featured in Autostraddle, Catapult, LitHub, as well as articles in B*tch Media, NBC-BLK, and others. Her poetry appears in Frontier Poetry, Florida Review, Rust & Moth, PANK, Hellebore, Sundog Lit, HOBART, among countless others. Currently, she serves as Assistant Editor for Glass Poetry and co-founder of Think in Ink and the Women of Color Speak reading series. Her second collection Unlearning Eden is forthcoming from White Stag Publishing in 2022.