Poetry from The Well


Between two flaps I’ll live

In the spaces beneath

Thirsty ink


Eyes sweep over

Pages, some looking,

And some seeing


Meanwhile, planets tumble

Farther into black space,

Away from one another


As my static world matures

To crisp sepia, oily fingertips

Blurring the scenes


To your child’s bedside

Table I’ll migrate, when she

Needs a friend


As badly you did, when you

Dripped snot and tears

All over the words that


Crystallized atop

My own snot and tears

And oily fingertips



9 thoughts on “Remember

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