#sundaypoetry - YEARS
YEARS Ice, wine, Valentine, Murmur me your dreams of sleep. Restfulness, I know I felt long ago, between stairways and stained knees. I could hear my father's voice, or is it another, younger still? I cannot catch your warm embrace, though I have yet tried to, stilt your will And your advances. I want to feel you but resist I rowed away, and will again, my hand aching in your fist. I can hear my heartbeat undertow - like shattered glass, like air. What lies within - I row awa
#SUNDAYPOETRY - LOW TIDE
LOW TIDE THE TIDE GOES OUT LEAVING TINY BOXES OF COPPER WIRE EACH READS A STORY FROM YOU TO ME, IN A POEM BETWEEN TWO DOORS WHEN OPENED, THEY UNRAVEL, FILLING THE BREATHLESS SPACE BETWEEN US UNCOILING METAL RINGS, I ATTACH ONE TO YOU, TO ME THROUGH WORDS AND WIRE WE SPAN THE DISTANCE ACROSS WAVES AND ROCKS, THE GLISTENING SUN STRIKES LIGHT AND SQUINTING, FROM AFAR, I SEE YOUR EMPTY LINES LIT, SPARKS OF WIRE, COPPER LINES RADIATE VIBRATIONS OF YOU, BURNT UP, IN ME I WATCH AND