I know nothing
about you anymore.
Can’t remember conversations.
Sometimes you are a leaf
blowing past the yard of memory,
a whisper likening
myself to wind.
(originally published in Subterranean Blue Poetry, Fall 2020)
I know nothing
about you anymore.
Can’t remember conversations.
Sometimes you are a leaf
blowing past the yard of memory,
a whisper likening
myself to wind.
(originally published in Subterranean Blue Poetry, Fall 2020)
I don’t know anyone
but the gnats swarming
around me &
the stranger
next to me calls them
wedding bugs
marriage begins with wings
then seeks blood
sucking glimpse of sweat
on skin sugar all the single
guests swat at the air
around them familiar
the way we complain
of heat so beg
for rain to form in
these shrouds of clouds
to cool us down
it’s nice to have something
tangible to wish for
(originally published in Razor Literary Magazine, Spring 2018)