It is not the sturdy
wooden beams
that raise
the house
aloft
that I study
but instead
the rotting
wooden plank
still dark
and wet
that has
washed ashore
alone
that will hold
my attention
forever

It is not the sturdy
wooden beams
that raise
the house
aloft
that I study
but instead
the rotting
wooden plank
still dark
and wet
that has
washed ashore
alone
that will hold
my attention
forever


I awake, heart quickening its beat, fingers slowly unraveling, gently looking for love in your still sleeping body, while, elsewhere in my brain, old grievances […]

I read Hesiod and put some notes in the margin. Tapping my pen on the page like playing taps as I thought of those notes […]
