I’m trying to write a really good poembut nothin’ comes to mindno ideano imageryno inspiration
I miss youso I make youfrom every thought,every heartbeat,every current of energytying my soulto my body.
She comesto him, an angelin blushing floraland stardust — milky moonsin her eyes,the cosmostrailing behindher softnessas she closes…
His loving hand paints hergold, silver — in shadesof the sweetest aching he is making her bodyborn of the moonand stardust.
Your eyesfilling meto burst,making this universesecondary to the onewe’ve just created.
A poem
I was loving myself
Our grandmothers
I see her