Mackenzie Kozak

abandoned image

in my memory the sky is blown
white !25! the skirt i wear white

a headache becomes my bare shoulders
becomes milk thistle
and he muffles its spine !25! does not shelter me

the trees lean away from us
and are furrowed in their breathing

days after he calls it
the spoils of morning
or he says collecting coins of dew

as i comb through another head of hair
another on the same carpeted grass

didn’t i take delight in my pain
which was the color of dirt

now he is off in a bright country
which could be the country of his body
that once pricked my arms

but handsome and well-fed
and not wed to me

Mackenzie Kozak is a poet living in Asheville, NC. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Boston Review, DIAGRAM, Denver Quarterly, jubilat, Poetry Northwest, Sixth Finch, Verse Daily, and elsewhere. She was a 2018 finalist of the National Poetry Series. Find her online at