Who only wears
shades of red
(with black). I could never be
her—the way I give it
away with my eyes. You’ll know
my heart by how
I hold my mouth. All the black
(and red into pink)
won’t shield me
from exposing
the truth on the street.
Who only wears
shades of red
(with black). I could never be
her—the way I give it
away with my eyes. You’ll know
my heart by how
I hold my mouth. All the black
(and red into pink)
won’t shield me
from exposing
the truth on the street.
“Whose flame/Is the imprisoned lightning.”
—Emma Lazarus, from “The New Colossus”
In a slow return to daylight after hours, she winks
at March and flirts
with her own promises to wake up
a tiny piece
of dirt. Hers is an impassioned lightning
that could strike
even now—before spring.
* also from Emma Lazarus’ “The New Colossus.”