Lauren Erimita Poems

I think of you as two

Two possibilities, if you will
Or roads,
...

I can feel the dough beneath my fingers
press into the crevices of my hand.
I knead and pound, the way my mother did
and my grandmother before her,
...

What if I am merely puns and quips,
the readers digest version of
a human heart?
What if I can’t write, because I don’t know
...

find the rate of change in me, x
where I seek infinity. +
define me unambiguously; x
that I may be solved =
...

Our naked limbs that cross
and crease around the other
are a study in the
beauty of line and value-
...

Debussy fills me in three-quarter time;
the trombone gliding
up, up and down down
groaning the melody
...