It’s possible we once danced by the light of the solstice moon, runcible drunk, hunched over streetcar tracks to flatten a penny— the only
It’s possible we once danced by the light of the solstice moon, runcible drunk, hunched over streetcar tracks to flatten a penny— the only
There are stars so far away their light has yet to reach us and when it finally shines on us, the stars themselves will
This is a poem about love that does not focus. This unfocused poem mentions how hands imprinted themselves on my ribcage, how we fell
