Will she find
shelter for her words,
bed for her enjambment, a bath
for her stanzas. Not
a question–merely
a series of projections
to use
as stepping stones
to reach beyond
memories of rain
pounding on
a roof
to the rhythm
of failed love.
Will she find
shelter for her words,
bed for her enjambment, a bath
for her stanzas. Not
a question–merely
a series of projections
to use
as stepping stones
to reach beyond
memories of rain
pounding on
a roof
to the rhythm
of failed love.