A Daily Self-indulgent Postcolonial/Feminist/Poetry-in-Progress/Culture Blog
every breath
is so much wind-rinsed dust
begins a thought unsaid
till sweetness
turns speech in two-three tongues
till dreams
drop like calm climbing touch
on legs
galloping deep in the night
to legs
that blossom asleep in bed
_
Post a Comment
I've been breaking down about every tiny thing and everywhere, so Big A suggested I should apply to take the rest of the semester off wo...
No comments:
Post a Comment