I have not forgotten
which side of the bed
to effortlessly toss
my pillows. I do-
that without thinking.
I carried with me
two entire boxes
of souvenirs from
our courtship. I do not-
need to open them.
I never pick daisies
if I did I would mercilessly
hack them to pieces with
my impetuous fingers.
I do, I don't, I do,
I don't, I do, I don't
I do, I don't, I do,
I don't, I do, I don't
I do.
I have not forgotten
how much effort I made
to preserve each petal.
listen to the spoken word version of daisies
:)
Tickle your toes. . .
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
Letter to Kate For William Blake My Catherine Sophia, as you would be known. You were just Kate. Child of Pity, full of mouth. Widened but i...
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like a hand that holds an ankle, I felt powerful in your arms this dancing, this pointed push, this bygone cloud. with my face in your belly...
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July 12th My love's hands and eyes so full of surprise! he sees nothing wrong with giving me a synthetic strawberry.
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Dear, Run. Arrows in your belly and ribs and rear you were once wounded, dear. Limping, Heartsick, Struggling to catch up green from my succ...
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At age 25 for Sir John Donne Down went San Felipe. Crimson and pale, rippling, clinging to it's mist. Oh, how that flagship hurled itsel...
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confession is all: it is what my poetry is, and that is my life.
-
Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
-
silver-tongued wings flapping bones split but connect to each other every few inches. arms opened create flight-lips purse full of gold word...
Poets United Contributor
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