Missing (Memory) I wandered this way one miserable day. Well, the day wasn’t miserable. I was. Agitated, dispirited I stomped more than wandered toward the river. Frazzled by taking the expected path in every quarter of my life, I splintered off the easy, cleared woodland path and into hay-scented ferns, …
Love isn’t pretty. It startles you in the nightgrabs you by the throatempties your soulleaves youprayingin the dark silencea primordial light washes the floor,raises your edges: the weave of the bedspread,your hand, and its pop-top scar, tiny white hairs, two sun spots, creases, veins,one broken half-polished nail, the pencil callous on your middle finger, every lie you’ve …