Katarina Boudreaux – 2 poems

The Barren Ink



He retired to his study
nightly, the glass
of sherry she poured him
always in his left hand,
his books and papers
piled neatly before him
like the children they
had not wanted then
and yet yearned for now
as age began to sift
through their friends.


His written words had lost
their importance years ago,
but he poured himself
between the leaves,
each syllable a sad mystery
he unraveled sometime
before the old clock
struck ten when 
it turned eleven.


It was then his mind
began to wander through
the years that he had 
wasted with her deciding
whether or not she was 
right or wrong for him.


Sometime before twelve
he retired, her breathing
the steadiness that kept
his heart beating though
he had never wanted
to settle for the one
who made the best
summer sandwiches.




Lego Blocks



The fish swim
in circles between
our toes as if
to sew us 
back together.


Our hands
no longer connect
when we
hold them.


The child between
us needs balloons
to drift closer
to the sun
than the moon.


I forget 
to pack sunscreen


Several nights
ago I heard 
you whispering 
to her 
in your sleep.


I pretended
that I didn’t
know the language.


You never have
bought me flowers.


I never asked 
for them.





Katarina Boudreaux is a New Orleans based author, musician, dancer, and teacher. Her first novel “Platform Dwellers” is forthcoming from Owl Hollow Press. “Alexithymia” is available from Finishing Line Press and “Anatomy Lessons” from Flutter Press.