you tell methat my poem is not A Poemit’s something less-words strung togetherbearing some truth…
if you were counting your final breathsI wonder if I would hop on a plane to hold your handif I would rush…
thank you for interrupting meinterminablymaking me do your workstop everything else and…
the mountains enclosed us and the palm trees in the early morningthe desert city whispered…
Words a country removed from our shared language play in my ear. Your absence surrounds me. The air is humid…
I like you with a twinkle in your eyesitting on the couch with your head cocked to the siderunning…
once, in a cloistered chambera woman told you a story-life is ephemeral. we returnas…
your loss
this morningwe threw open the blinds
In this story, she still lives in a small room among the clouds. The castle is still her prison. There are no mice to…