‘Feathers and Bones’ & ‘Erosion’
Feathers and Bones
I lied to a priest
at the age of eight.
My sins would be forgiven
if I was sorry.
There are only three things
bodies need to survive—
forgiveness isn’t one.
I was a bride for the first time
at the age of nine.
I walked down the aisle toward
a wrinkled, balding man.
He presented my husband—
a thin, tasteless wafer I was
told became His body.
I took back my original sin
at the age of fourteen.
I stained every spec of white
with the blood dripping
from the gaping holes
where I ripped apart my wings
and scattered the ground with
feathers and bones.
Erosion
Raindrops falling down a windowpane
You leave me
S-l-o-w-l-y.
Your laugh, a
chuckle
giggle
chortle
snicker
I can’t remember.
Were those earthen locks softer than the blanket I clutch?
A smile that lit up a room—an exaggeration?
I rip through the pages,
Entreating one photo after another
“Please remind me.”
Still those raindrops fall off the edge
to oblivion
Another piece of you
fades
away.
Sierra Tufts is a writer living in Pennsylvania who received her MFA from Arcadia University. Her flash fiction has been published in 805 Lit + Art. She has also published poetry in two anthologies—Hey There, Delilah! by Wingless Dreamer and New Voices – Spring 2024 by Moonstone Arts Center.