Poems from medusa
Thinking of
sounds
that might come from
unturned pages,
closed doors,
empty bedsides,
and secrets locked away.
Can they scream as loud as...
Thinking descriptively
Never speaking literally
Articulating and illustrating
My wisdom, my beauty
My pain, my suffering
My joy, my love
In...
She is bent impossibly,
her wits have no end.
But there's no muck in her teeth
or alcohol in her breath.
There's a glint in her eye,...