Evening, and I sip
from my shame, wishing I could
set down this full cup.
I tasted coffee,
tea, on your tongue,
your face above mine.
Wishing on cats, stars—
dogs, hearts, children, lovers, birds—
they took my license.
January is
February as it waits
to be born, eyes wide.
Don’t think I forget.
I am built to remember
and ponder my tests.
I shake my head, mute.
Full of smudged ink and smudged truth,
heart forgets to speak.
Comments on this entry are closed.