Cradled
Precariously, still
In cotton dunes of blankets
Cold and shadowed in their undulations
...
My restless heart,
creeping from its cavity
to the silent corridors of predawn-
A crackled white bulb of moon
...
Oh beloved,
have you washed yourself of me?
And if so, how then to know
if these longings must abide in dream only?
...
She has feathered her nest
with things found and forgotten
unwanted scraps and trappings of every kind
From garage sale to garbage dump,
...
Oft I have written
Oft I have listened
for that secret wish
within my soul-
...
Je suis désolé-
Je suis désolé que je ne puisse pas vous sauver
Tous ces temps vous m'avez aidé, me faites mal, m'avez aimé,
vous êtes moqués de moi.
...
i'm eight years old again
trying to memorize times tables
waiting for rain puddles
only now
...