Poems from theblondechick
Dad comes home
eye like abandoned, concrete buildings
He tracks his day in
muddy footprints on the floor
How do you spell exhaustion?
He...
Mother with her lips
asks about the weather
Rain is pouring inside my head
A space of sidewalk
A man at the corner
smoking a cigarette
A T-shirt bleach-stained
like his flashing teeth
A lingering whistle
The...
I want a lover to touch them and whisper,
"Here you have a constellation of stars."
He'll trace them with the tip of his finger.
I will...