Delilah Miller Poems

See this palm here?
You love me,
it says right here,
in the flesh and bone writing of your hand.
...

The thin skin
of my wrist and palm
looks like silk,
a layer or two.
...

Mozart might have hated me.
My mind
never mastered a genius
a talent,
...

Something bubbles up in me,
when some poem,
with too much accuracy
paints too clear a portrait.
...

I never feel THIS itchy,
anxious and aggravated.
No.
I sit still every night.
...

Nicely let him know,
my mother insists.
Silly woman doesn't have a thing,
and 'tell him' she presses.
...

Covered in:
Big red hearts and purple candy
and pink roses,
magenta balloons and an old melody
...

I've got no other reason to love him,
other than...
He
lets
...

It almost breaks my heart!
I could break my own heart
with the swelling joy.
Today, I convinced myself
...

'Through our own recovered innocence we discern the innocence of our neighbors.'
-Henry David Thoreau
...