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. . .
-
two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked... -
to have sticky pins for fingertips and ballpoint pens for thumbs. then I could fascinate myself to you, and write away doldrums.
-
In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
-
July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
-
Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
-
our silence comes easy and there is much to it the commingling of our fingers and the swapping of palm oils and the nimble saltation of ...
-
July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
-
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...
-
This is just a short note from me to inform you that after my extensive monthly study and subsequent written exploration of Psalms and Prove...
Poets United Contributor
No comments:
Post a Comment