Gloria Valencourt Poems

My heart is a bomb.
I’m ticking away at life, soon to detonate in his hands.
Down with the damages,
the spectacle, this is divine destruction.
...

September sings a sonnet
To a May Queen in a Forest
She's fallen from her kingdom
Raped in perfect season
...

There's no other phrase to describe her.
You say it fits her perfectly.
You called her Sunlight Incarnate
But where does that leave me?
...