Somewhere along the way you will make peace with your broken pieces,
I prick you again — impulsive coax of calloused fingerto garnish love-starved wraithwith another rousing…
I wait for hours,
C U R F E WWhat else could we do
C U R F E W
A Poem -
How surreal to be sitting here thinking I’d be okay, if only I could be scurrying…
Waiting in the cold,hoping I don’t slip.Kneeling down,I look for a slit todip my ten toes in,but…