3/6/14:
You are beautiful when you cry,
but you always meant to build a dam;
subside the currents beneath the film of your eyelids.
Although your levee split and your voice cascaded the way
snow-capped stones dapple soil after a quake.
But despite that, I would use the best of my entity learning the anatomy of your avalanches.
With conviction, I lay odds that your bruises and scars branch out to carve Orion's belt.
Immaculacy could take its form only in wading each estuary of skin,
from wrist to toe.
But just so you know,
studying the groove in your jaw from the sidewalk knocks me the fuck out too.
YOU ARE READING
The Sagittarius
PoetryThe Sagittarius is a chronological collection of poems I've written over the past year and a half that are all specific to one topic. Some are very brief and some are longer.
