I could almost applaud you
for the way you wrapped
my feelings up in the
brown paper bag that you
...
The World comes back again
My senses stir
The house is alive, it breathes,
It sighs,
...
the truth,
it splinters in your hands
and the Light
is bitter on your tongue
...
Delicately wrapped up in redemption
and lace
Only old, useless things
in the stillness of quiet waters
...
We were children
Watching
Children Kill.
Through the iridescent,
...
Your face,
like the rings
inside trees,
measures my years,
...
It hurts to remember
And it hurts to forget-
the days when
doing dirty things
...
I was born and raised in Central New York. I have been writing and reading poetry for as long as I can remember.)
Landmarks
Lingering past the
Landmarks of my life
Looming, limitless in
Shame
Year after year
Corroding the details
Of that which echo’s
A lifetime ago.
And I consider all
The words I could have said
And all the lies
You could have worn;
Tattered and hanging
From the memory of
Your body.