Dear Khione

o’ mistress of winter
rest your heart here on the
cold apartment floor, not
a penny left for a space heater

self-induced hypothermia as
you pray for salvation

no legacy in your father’s cold eyes

o’ ingenue of frost
may you not let limbs thaw but
grow stone cold

no youth for sinners
sinners
cheats

we don’t have no god

we don’t want no god

we want salvation

sinners
cheats
let unclean hands purge
winter from our hearts
not when we’ve become ice
in self-preservation

year after year
winter is unyielding

isn’t it cruel?

leaving your youth for dead in a
hotel bathroom

spilling icy tears in a
back alley

frozen heart in
honeymoon dreams

icicles form in the crevasses of your broken heart

femininity

isn’t it cruel?

By Amanda Kay

Biography:

Amanda is a current sophomore at Santa Clara High School. She enjoys swimming, reading, and drinking a good cup of tea.