What happens if I lock myself out?
What happens if you were it?
So, will you help with cupcake hell?
Will you help me make sense?
I don't know how to plant things.
I don't know how to live without you.
Reconciliation fantasies
arrive
at the most inopportune moments,
and are simultaneously two-dimensional and curiously sensual.
Like the mirroring that happened
in the middle of the silences
when the only images thrusting themselves forward
were coated in vulnerable spaces
and hidden fears.
more from the author
-
The sheep have moved to higher ground
- May 4, 2017
-
This marriage
- Jun 2, 2016
-
The thing about landslides
- Dec 31, 2015
- More »
Latest in Poetry
Covid-19
All | UPDATE YOUR BUSINESS INFO
Readers also liked…
-
On the roof next-door
- Jul 2, 2020
