Category: Poetry
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On general principle, and perhaps skillI cannot take advice from peopleSilhouetted by bare wallsIn empty boxes How are there no coffee-stained post-it notes on suffering patiently?Or crayoned love letters crooked with lip-cornered tongues?Where is that tear-stained polaroid of your mother’s teenage smile?Not even a curved sex symbol to stroke in the heat of the night?Why…
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in a childhood bug bookI keep dog-eared, water-stained hopesthe nighttime silhouettes heavinghands like bricks on my chestthe smell of pineapple rainwhen my wet face stuck to your t-shirt unfurl those back pagesI remember the best kisses likea battery on my tongueelectric, then the pastor forbade itor, the husband leaves 13 voicemailsif that was so good,…
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I hate that you have no answersbut I also hate good cops looking for excusespour the heavy molasses of my unrequited griefinto your fillable chestthen hang up sweet iron cathartic fist fight on our tongues Do you call me to hear them?in between the waves of repeating myselfa screeching cry cracks apologies in choking sobs,…