The Two Poems I won't forget:
You read them warmly as if your lips were butterscotch
Looking just beyond your notebook paper.
Reading with the bittersweetness of siren's song
knowing whoever listens will perish
The sounds gracing our ears to enter our hearts.
Your poems of a velvet sofa left by the street
and a matchstick box waiting to be burned.
I will never forget those poems.
Ever.