with little hammers tap, tap
a pyramid of rubble
unsuspecting every sound
they had their rituals
I was different from them
a clink of steel
uncovered by a vacancy of harsh light
Tag Archives: Women
housewife
You become, so distinct
rising a mouth to holy
i am
~
addicted
to the coolness of your throat
~
A probable stroke
needlepoint
unconscious woman you
here are your five knuckles
your hand collapsed
in this ordinary metaphor
its not your skin i like
your shoulders are streets
dividing a trafficking heart
stretching EVER SO awkwardly
asking, who i love
who i touch
when night comes
