August 2, 2013 § Leave a comment
That nerveless doll
with arms of the purest porcelain
that shatter and break in the winter chill
speaks words smoother than the glass in her eyes
a fine blue in tone, to strike against
the balmy blush of her cheeks
and grasps with unblemished hands
at the shattering unknowable.
June 11, 2013 § Leave a comment
We’re both so far from the crosswalk
But we’ll try to meet halfway
Before the light changes.
Before the chance is lost.