Nursery
by Katy Mullins
Her spine
protruding from her
hunched back,
each vertebrae a marble,
wanting her breath to inhale
enough for them both.
She sits on her bed
her palms open, receiving
the weight of the grief,
balanced in the creases of her hands
as though when she moves
it might spill forth like a wine glass
overflowing Pinot Noir.
The room is pink on one wall
and white on the others
as she tries to write
her goodbye in color
with flecks of paint on her jeans
from the splatter of her broken brush.
You think of the crib
she is trying to remember
you will never forget
the smell of her paint
and the feeling it leaves
settled heavy, just above the roof of
your mouth.
Katy Mullins is an American writer originally from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She recently graduated with a BA in English Writing. Her work has also appeared in Litro and In Shades Magazine. She currently resides in Tulsa, Oklahoma.