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...