Friday September 20, 2019
Since You Asked
But we can’t stop anything in a poem. If The Tears are
there, then that’s where they’ll stay. If the lines
he softens on my forehead run as deep as they look
then in this poem I will cry for all the soft I’ve ever
tried to conceal, every rough idea, every gouged edge.
We can cross the rope of a decade and counting, here in
this poem; travel in dreams you want to hear about.
We can lay in the after lull of a couch cradling all the
body parts that caught a child’s scream today.
But we can’t erase what is there. We cannot change the brick.