by Olivia
The lizard statue,
it’s in a comma,
in me.
For you it’s shaped different.
Like a mermaid tail,
mountain lion,
or a cat made of dragon scales.
Mine keeps its mouth closed,
made of stone.
It lives between sentences,
where I pause too long
and people think I’m done.
I’m just waiting for the statue.
For it to shout the right string of words,
so my heart gets plucked
as if it were the limbs of a harp.
You walk past your statue,
like it’s decoration.
For me it’s made a nest in my rib cage.
Coughing whenever it needs.
The lizard statue;
It cracks.
A thin line from jaw to belly,
like a sidewalk
after winter.
I notice.