The embers of fury born from the dying fire of rage twist in the metal grate winking.
You cannot give me pain That was yours To fashion out of could-bes, Cutting yourself on scattered shar… You gather lovingly from the groun…
You have nothing to say Till you open your mouth. I hold my life in You call me out. Say I have lost me,
I am neither prose Nor prosaic Endless Nor finite I am neither you
I am a poem When you give me rhyme Witty: Read between my lines. I am only funny
You try to tell one story but others ask to be told, so here we are and I am the passenger and he is the driver, and I am gazing out of the window, feeling a little sad how three hundre...
From your ceaseless jabber A million mysteries tumble forth. I try to catch them A child grabbing skirts That swish above her head
Your silence cracks The shards of my sane. Your eyes look to me with Askance of affinity. We pass furtive notes
He won’t come now When you call. He’s too busy Drinking in the moment As if born again.
When you have done All your hours but one There is A sudden spell of melancholy Not like the soreness of a wound
Words don’t fail me When I look at you My thesaurus is a mind Of affection Of insult