I used to think the heart was a fistcoiled tight, ready to strikewith a muscle’s crude strength —
Quiet street abandonedin the heat of summer.Trees bear the bruntof sun’s cruel weight:leaves droop, branches weakwith…
Blue Tiles
Broken tiles lie like teeth after a bar fightaround the rim of my old swimming pool:
She wore a purple gown, flower-petalskirts swirling around her legs as she madeher debut three months too early, trickedby the lemony sun into…