I have a talent for doing this thing that I hate
And maybe kind of judge when other people do
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Poetry
2 min
I have a talent for doing this thing that I hate
And maybe kind of judge when other people do
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I saw your hands.
After working all day,
you came home
and chopped past sundown.
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came waltzing on into my still life
in keen triple meter. Restringing
my mute strum of
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Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this glorious day,
To join these two in holy matrimony
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My face is full of flowers;
Given or gathered, who knows?
Whichever the scenario,
They seem
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I woke to the hum of Tallulah's red Ford
Ranger in the driveway of my home. That morning,
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[00:02:31EST]
have you ever watched a video of a tsunami?
the water drawn back like a bow
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Crack snap slush, lines cross over cracked ice and meet at rock
Half melted, falling to chilled
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In this crazy world that we're living.
Every day the stress begins again.
You wear you
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distant laughter spills through open windows,
staining my bedroom floor some shade of before
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I.
When you are first pulled out
to that place that fades from sand to cement
it's
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We look at the stars
As they twinkle and shimmer above our heads
Forever a reminder of the
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My tongue clumsily crashes against the cathedral ceilings of my palate,
It helplessly tries to
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