I say thank you to the rain for watering my plants
this morning and I hear more people talking
to their gods than the day before,
a sign we’re afraid.
the tree keeps me dry as some insects drown
beside my feet (the small are seldom lucky)
everyone wants to come out a winner,
but there are only so many special seats.
sometimes a mother,
other times a border
how fair can water ever be?
Oct 13, 2020
Oct 13, 2020 at 11:30 PM UTC
soft spoken,
a need
to scream.
when the day seems
too far, I’ll put
anything in between.
these hands are
nothing new,
and we’re still
learning to agree
is it the room
spinning, or is
it me?
Oct 13, 2020
Oct 13, 2020 at 6:35 PM UTC
I’ve become an expert in
stringing together
the loose pieces
(collectively) known as
myself
and rearranging them
to another's liking:
a composer of sorts
taking requests:
an ensemble of personalities
each one curated for
somebody else
Oct 13, 2020
Oct 13, 2020 at 1:59 AM UTC
our bodies held
conversations
better than
we ever could
Oct 12, 2020
Oct 12, 2020 at 11:58 PM UTC