Meter Running
Living without you has been difficult.
I keep thinking we could be friends once again.
Just as the labourer’s hands grow calloused from honest toil,
the cobbler’s fingers learn the secret language of leather and thread,
and the student’s mind bends toward mastery through endless repetition-
so the whore perfects a craft that looks like desire Read more from here...
Too Good for the Good Girls
I used to bolt from girls.
Maybe shy.
Maybe I worshipped my over-affectionate friends
too hard to ever touch them-
Madonnas I myself enthroned.
Now their curse has fangs: Read more from here...