little hit #3
my mouth wants another to meet it
soft, wet warmth
familiar motion learned fumbling
this is one thing I can't do myself
Read more
the book of love
Going away to come back different, changed. Isn't that what I've been taught to do? Trees peeking little kinds of green, mind lost on a loop. I'm over being over & over. Say it out loud, giant, big, fat, jinx. Curl my lip at
little hit #4
body moves in tandem, I'm aching from a cold place wipe tear stains on the soft curves of your face exiled in gas filled brain I used all my energy to try and contain
little hit #2
worn out memory, he longs to be my muse shelf full of half pulled clues make a shape, spilled ice cream stain not used to this from you
tiny ode to this & that
Do they know how much I think of them? Write of them? My boys. I hold their long gone image in the palm of my hand. I take them everywhere. Is this love? This thing that will never give up?