dodging rocks and reefs at funeral speed?
I see no dish of milk, no welcoming lips
just the beach-palms outstretched and the abyss
of all I've missed,winking from every bead
on every rain-whetted, wind-brandished blade
Sunday, August 21, 2011
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i know my upper arms will grow flabby it's true of all the women in my family i know that the purple views like dead fish in Seine ...
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I didn't want to wait on my knees In a room made quiet by waiting. A room where we'd listen for the rise Of breath, the bur...
