that little bird under the leaf.
she didn't hide from me.
she hopped out,
to take a look.
Tickle your toes. . .
-
sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
-
secret fancies don't really bother me, alright? but know that once you tell me I become either like a turtle and snap my smile...
-
I was just awarded the Stylish Blogger Award! (awarded by John Evans ) I was asked to write 7 things about myself,and to award 10 ot... -
Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
-
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...
-
lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
-
lipstick on the teacup steaming bedroom eyes. glasses resting folded newspaper bookmarked novel. barefoot toenails pink lotion ringed finger...
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
No one cares for me, because I once cared for you. futile attempts to invigorate the soil with hands un-gloved, dirty deeds to provide my li...
Poets United Contributor
No comments:
Post a Comment