Two Poems by Chelsea Fanning
window, still more than half-
full of rainbow, I wait for
bright quarters, anticipating
the click of metal on metal,
slow turn and crank before
another candy-coated piece
ceded to a stranger.
The Color Thief Returns
I hike up mud-stained skirts and throw
a plump red leg over your windowsill.
Remember when you were young
with cheeks like pink seashells?
Now each wrinkle deepens to brown
as it folds and the light bulbs in your tits
blink on and off. Still,
you must have something –
some piece of silver filling or jasper
in your eye. I pry open your ribs
and rub your blue-violet heart
between thumb and forefinger, then trail
a yellow nail along your rusting arteries.
Between your legs an ember glows,
casting shadows on my purple face.
Yes, here is something worth the taking.
I snatch the scarlet sex, warm and wet, and leave
a tinderbox in its place. For countless nights
you’ll scrape the canary head against the steel,
trying hard to strike a match.