Come back to my touch and the wind and the rain,
the pregnant clouds, to me.
I won’t mind a bit I’ll make every part the
teeth mouth ears nose and with uncompromising style.
In a spell of dizziness, I think of your name,
your name as it is, La-ra, La-ra.
I see you sleeping in a dark room
as you would sleep alone,
unaware that you are yours, and I
am yours as well.
Will someone else say innocent?
I won’t say innocent,
I will go home to two kids. And the
man lifts a heavy eye to my eye,
the pupil, the whites full to the bone,
fuller than mine have ever been
in the years I have fed fishes.
To suck uses two muscles in my
lips and unkissed neck. It passes this
unlicked space that should not
be saved for lilacs.
there was no delivery
it’s out of me now
“O not enough silence”, published in di-verse-city 2018, the youth anthology of the Austin International Poetry Festival.
Most of my Insides
are now on the Outside for Strangers to Observe, in order of secrecy,
and the most private is farthest and easiest to notice.
your jutting chin, your maidensmile,
watching and trembling to see all the naked
years of their slow moving.