will the books detail my legacy
of love
in their pages?
Is that what I'm waiting for?
Or do I instead
write a thousand poems
unseen
about the softness of your cheek
against my hand?
I know which will make me happiest.
top of page
Search
Recent Posts
See Allof me, little by little little bites sinking into old wounds every time and I let her because just like the trees open their hands to the snow I do love the idea of dying slowly loved and afraid and b
240
is write little books, is what I heard the husband of a friend say once. that's all she does, all day he said and she laughed and I nodded and felt my shoulders sink and remembered her laugh as I sat
210
Bring in your dead, she said. So I dragged my lovers out of the warm cocoons of my sheets out through my crooked legs and my sweat-soaked arms and watched as they clutched not at the bed, but at their
120
bottom of page