Poems from tuturro
you met her in July
eyes glowing, ankles swollen
bandages enough to fill a suitcase
she taught you words your mother scoffed at
and laced...
your name rolls past my lips like tea before bed:
soothing,
but often laced with something stimulating;
I turn it over with my tongue and...
Only fitting, it happens on a Tuesday evening
in a crowded library
she sits and waits and threads her fingers
through words and lines,...
I want you to know
that we love you more than
wings belong on a plane; and no one
is allowed
to tell you otherwise
and even though our love...
brooklyn boys in wifebeaters
who smell like ivory soap
and talk like their dads
go to jersey in the summer to meet girls from the shore
who...