natalie marino
sweet morphine
A late summer evening—
color of watermelon,
color of watered down
blood.
My mother
sits on her broken chair,
smoking cigarette
after cigarette,
letting herself forget
the tumor
in her chest
feeding on melancholy,
letting herself forget
the disappearing sun.
nm
Natalie Marino is a poet and physician. Her work appears in Pleiades, Rust + Moth, Salt Hill, South Florida Poetry Journal and elsewhere. She is the author of the chapbook Under Memories of Stars (Finishing Line Press, 2023). She lives in California. You can find her online at nataliemarino.com or on Instagram @natalie_marino.
