They coerced the ink into a sacred text and instructed us to quietly find our seats between the words.
Do not go fretful into that cold light That leaks around the doorframe from the day. Stay, stay and watch the biding of the night.
Mother’s tea kettle sings to an empty house. My sisters abandon her, because we are young, and act grown. Keep the water in your mouth. It’ll go down easier if you hold your nose.
in dreams you return. beneath a tangerine sun on the longest car ride, we talk and we talk and i have since forgotten all but your laughter speeding through light.
God, grant me the serenity to accept, with upraised palms, smooth like two nickels, the word that sometimes, like a loosed neuron, frenetically flits across a yellow field,