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Archive

I remember the taste

I remember the taste of my parents’ wedding cake. No shotgun metal in the rum frosting, but sweetness in the flour, us kids suddenly giddy.

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I find, in the dirt by the plot

I find, in the dirt by the plot of potatoes, an egg hastily painted pink & blue. I’d buttoned your coat then, a wet kiss on your forehead.

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Let’s parse this day

Let’s parse this day into rain & blankets. Pass me my book & lend me your shoulder. Here is my head on your chest lulled by heart beats.

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Newfound song, don’t leave me

Newfound song, don’t leave me without a struggle. I possess this elegance. Rags of the old time on fire now humming wonder from fear.

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Guerrilla, my love

Guerrilla, my love, save some passion for me. There’ll be mangoes, freshly cut azaleas & siestas. But your callouses must be ready to soften.

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