I Bed. My dream portal. Light shaft from the hall floods. I Know. I will not sleep. II Up the stairs, his knee Cracks. A sound known too well. His
By Andie Levine6 years ago in Poets
My lover has many names. And faces and fingerprints. He is full of contradicting impressions. My lover has known me all my life.
She’s the wind-up kind. She works on springs. You need to use the key. But she will dance in lights in white satin toe shoes, on the angles’
Amy steals from Woolworth. Because she likes to. There's nowhere to go but up for someone only six. Maybe she'll grow up to be a teacher or a brain surgeon but
When you are bought the first time, will you show everything at once, or hold, close to your chest, your hand to play later?
My heads come unstrung like a pearl necklace, iridescent pellets bouncing and rolling away under the sofa and into the cracks in the floor,
Mama’s Honey lived next door. He slid under cracks when he came to visit, when she wasn’t looking. Mama’s Honey made her swing