He Is Here, He Is Not Afraid Poem by Lora Cooley
He Is Here, He Is Not Afraid
Our hands wander blindly in a forest made of flesh
Our eyes speak in signals
Twist in patterns
The horror of a city handling suicide by cyanide
Completely inadequate
Like lovers
My fingers down your side
We sleep with shadows
Dress yourself in shame
Monday, November 28, 2011
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4/16/2024 2:47:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
