The passive-aggressive Guilt trip Is a weak tool For your purpose The sensitive

My body is perfect —ly spotted The white spots I tell myself Are my Bambi spots

My sister’s cookies Chocolate chip Got my nephew to Say her name For the first time

Does the world need Another book? Another poem? I add one more to the pile To be left alone

I spend all my time Fighting with you In my head If we fought At least it would be

Good secret Bubbles inside Let me out Bad secret Indigestion

A palomino gallops Beside the highway Look out the window Rides over green hills Through yellow flowers

A joke Lost in Translation You will Never

I would never choose To eat a granola bar Or peanut butter crackers Though I eat them All of the time

I cannot apologize For writing what I feel inside If it is hard to read It is harder to live I will understand

Yo te amo Tres palabras Que solucionen todo Para la mujer Tan complicada