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Biography of altaira hatton
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I couldn't stop writing poetry any more than I could stop breathing, thinking, or loving.
As a result, many trees have died.
For the sake of those trees, and the hoped for order of my room, I now write my words here. Some are published, others are perfectly awful. I hope they bring you that sudden flash of clarity that only good writing can, or at least a momentary cessation from the discomforts of boredom.
AH
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Popular Poems
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Thirst
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There's a river of blue
_ _ swiftly through you
From the souls of your eyes
_ your large black shoe
There's a well in your lips
_ deep cool water
Close my eyes in a kiss
_ _ a desert flooding
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Poets
