I have a sleeping hand-
I can reach into time
make people spill
through an open door
and smile-each wanting
an embrace as welcome.
Taking turns, like
planes, to speedily-express
themselves to me.
and my body gives forth
something that busts
out of my chest.
and I am feeling like the
single, (most) adorable,
(as I roll into a
deeper groove
and ignore my
bruised rib.)
person I was.
Tickle your toes. . .
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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...
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Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
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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...
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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... -
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... -
To my fellow poets, for William Shakespeare Discredit all that you will read about me. Treasonous hands have bestowed difficult words which ...
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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...
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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...
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lipstick on the teacup steaming bedroom eyes. glasses resting folded newspaper bookmarked novel. barefoot toenails pink lotion ringed finger...
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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
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