A man may regret many words unsaid,
or lips he'd only ever dreamt of kissed...

A mimicry
of what it used to be...

Ode to the man who once learned to weep,
Ode to the winter, the shepherd and his sheep...

Vagrancy often visits my doorstep
and talks and talks of...

and how they protrude so vulnerably
against your flesh, as if a semi hidden...

Salted, sticky
plucked...

To the man
who tore his lovers...

I like watching the sky combust
into constellations of flocking...

I saw the promise of
Spring dancing in your irises...

an invasion of
loaded questions...

"All Lives Matter"
"Reopen the schools...

Commute.
Scan this QR code for love...