Clouded by years of memory,
hazed with final hurtful words...
I feel like I've known you
ever since I sprouted out of the garden...
You Who Never Arrived
You who never arrived...
You, poet,
with your toes clenched in river mud...
Unsteady footsteps
once marked...
You win some you lose some,
like a hand of poker chips...
When YOU;
no longer search for perfumes...
I dream of fluffy, pillowy pancakes
mounding on my rather half-eaten plate...
Melly, was that you at Blythe St this morning
when the tram grated and showered sparks into the...
Because I owe it to myself,
I will be a better woman...
How would it feel to love you,
take you out of your misery...