Friday, August 13, 2010

Sts. Pontian & Hippolytus (patrons of those who work in prisons)


the only thing in the room

that ready for us

was the bed.


sheets tucked at the corners

two pillows

& one round, red sun.


your mouth is my oyster. scratch that.

your oyster is my mouth.

this is going

in an unexpected direction.


when I press my ear

to your chest, it gallops


like so many horses,

like a night on the plains.

No comments:

Post a Comment