A Note of No Regret
Imagination shackled, hope hog-tied,
Conscience, my warden —
Never let me forget: his presence loomed greater than his absence ever could.
When she died, they cut her open, and all she’d left unsaid fluttered up from her belly like paper kites to dance on the…
with the gift of sight(a One-Line Poem response to “Waiting”, by Harper Thorpe)
ends of the line(a pantoum after Thu Uyên and Dewi)
Falling apart fasterThan I can build my bliss;Who will save me from thisBody of death?
A moment’s passiona kiss, a touch|slap — the awful daring of a moment’s surrender.