a poem: the drive over the dam

a poem: the drive over the dam

He was a man now, no escaping that. We both were grown, in spite of ourselves and we knew better, knowing ourselves and knew worse, too. We knew of worse. Which is the why of the affair: why the late nights early mornings desperate fumblings and driving sleepily...

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a poem: Compass

a poem: Compass

Compass In the third week, little signs started marking my heart's place on the map. Lines drawn between them, meandering like your hand along my spine when you bent to kiss my shoulderblade. Kissing Cape Town, then Egypt, this exotic and foreign visitor entering into...

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a poem: On love, in Mississippi

a poem: On love, in Mississippi

On love, in Mississippi I'm always in love driving to Mississippi the sun like a blanket or your hand I love the alternatives the sun and your hand juxtaposed making me choose the Tennessee river stretched out below me a mirror while I thought of you and it sparkled...

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