Tag Archives: sorrow

Harvest Me

Fingers and toes begin like kernels of corn and pods of peas, making the grown ones giggle and coo. I never knew any of you when the world introduced you and you were so new. God kept count of each … Continue reading

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Squishy

Cellophane is tougher than me. Spider’s silk, too. My mouth may spew and my tendons may tense but you could poke a hole right through my shell and shatter my heart. Don’t do it. Have mercy, won/t you? I’ve the … Continue reading

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dandelion brine

Her confession turns your face to ash and starches up your collar too tight it is around your small throat as she begins to holler. It’s woody white roots tonight for you and maybe even tomorrow it’s dandelion brine and … Continue reading

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All Good Rogues

Birds are balanced on branches, and I run along the rim I am as graceful as I will ever be now, as observant as my mind’s eye could ever hope to see, and the beating of my chest tells me … Continue reading

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Choose Your Color

I would rather be a window than a wall. You could see through me then  and it would matter to both of us in different ways. Before I was born I had not been meant to be. Do you think … Continue reading

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Where Love Greets Sorrow

They fly in with their wings spread wide and Joy brings them safely down to the rich brown earth, the turning twisting falling leaves, a glorious carpet for their feet. When the clouds gather turn grey from white, shed tears … Continue reading

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Melody Maker

You speak to me as sunlight life-giver, making the leaves glow warm and tender, their fragile fabric of pulsing chlorophyll, veins as roots as branches. And when you speak I become greedy. I am so very hungry for more. Fold … Continue reading

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Stained Garden

Not vessels to be filled with your rage; not mannequins with convenient holes you can pretend don’t have a voice or eyes or delicate frontal lobes. We’d rather see you ejaculate into the sky and let it rain down sorrow. … Continue reading

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Omnipotent Need (and its screaming)

The sorrow always comes in your leaving and the rage comes when I have you yet life still is an empty damp box on someone’s doorstep. That stripped and stained mattress of yours and the garbage that glares at me … Continue reading

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