Summer, At Best
Summer, At Best “Be ye therefore perfect…” from “The Sermon on the Mount” Taller, an inch, depending on the shoe. Slimmer, at best, a pound or two. More openhanded, perhaps, if you count nickels and dimes. But can I count…
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Summer, At Best “Be ye therefore perfect…” from “The Sermon on the Mount” Taller, an inch, depending on the shoe. Slimmer, at best, a pound or two. More openhanded, perhaps, if you count nickels and dimes. But can I count…
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Among Carptenter Bees You don’t sting me, I don’t kill you. We make a pact, and suddenly this buzzing around my head sounds like rain in the trees, spring creeks running fast, the muffled hum of secret sex, or those…
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Love at Rest Love went down to wrestle death. Now resting in the current, love at best feels more like like. A certain hue of pre-dawn light, cobalt through an icy window, I could say I somewhat like, almost call…
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The Little Flame Because we like pretending, I lash your slender wrists to the thick upper bed posts, and your feet to the bottom. Your boyfriend is watching from his photo on the dresser, and when you beg, please, sir,…
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