Postpartum Blues
obstreperous crying from hungry newborn. crouched in bathroom, hands over ears. postpartum blues.
Tag: love
Chronicle
Mama killed daddy with a fork. Daddy used a knife. There were no queens, nor kings chronicled in their lives. Were born of slaves and common men. Were built of fire and ice. Were bathed in blood, and blood again. Until their great demise.
Oceans
We were an ocean once. Travelers of worlds. We loved like love had meaning, and told ourselves it did. We shared breath under the Koloberry, and became one with Earth’s vibrations. We touched the fire that gave birth to a new world…
Bake
I bake you into every dream, every written word, every lost and last second. I tell you you’re my everything, extraordinary and radiant, like bees and skies and seas. You say the world is a fantasy, not many people see it, and crown me its queen.
Peaceful Reveries
Smell of used books, my fingers surf aging, wrinkled spines, 1899, 1985, such peaceful reveries, take nothing to remind, of half-priced royalty, other places, other times, constantly transported to futures and to pasts, the only type of freedom that lasts.
Purge
Remember that time I tried to purge you from my tired mind before a Russian exam & professor said, “Is everything fine?” “Да.” I smiled, suppressing the tears, that choked & seared my throat. Could only hope, you hadn’t lived in vain, finally free of the pain.
Bridges
She didn’t deserve you. Didn’t know the sleepless nights endless cries, homemade, garbage lullabies, sung to get a half-assed smile, ease you for a little while, bridge that gap between pain & rage, like twisting smoke of burning sage. No, the world didn’t deserve you.
First Kiss
You remember our first kisswhen I almost bit your lip? We were standing in the snow.I’ll never forget. You were never judgmental,never heartless, never icy. Didn’t think the day would comewhen you weren’t still beside me. Sleep well, My Love.I’ll be there soon.
Pride
Back then, we lost ourselves, faith, minds, in the thick smoke of infidelity, drama, lies exchanged to save face, pride, when in actuality we could’ve been better, had we simply tried.
Pen Pals
I write, “A cardinal stopped outside my window and the nurses let me eat pizza.” You write, “Happy Birthday,” and for me to keep my wishes. I write, “I’ll save them for you so one day you can visit.” You write how that would be cool, whenever you feel sick less. I write, “Someday, like […]
