word choice A collection of poems.

Here is my saturated stare, slyly presented

I’d ask you to please wait while I erect my sarcastic shield

but your thick legs are touching

and you are cavernous and hollow.

I will take you and

fill you to make you more capacious,

my vigorous rough touch

hands are claws as I dig at you

brace yourself to be versed

We’re lucky to have this at all.
Back in the woods we found someone
else’s memories.

Let’s say we left them where we found them.
Let’s say you didn’t pocket the rhinestone comb
and let’s say I kept quiet.

Let’s say I’m not writing this now.

The secret lies in the hush as I braid your hair,
…

After the argument
separates us,
sends you out
with your coat
into the night,
I begin
to measure things
in halves:

half of the blood-orange
I ate for lunch,
and the sharp half
of the knife
that sliced it.

The curtains
halfway drawn;
the door half open
adrift in the room,
half of the troubles…

Here is a poem that tastes like loneliness
the first time it makes a home
in your heart. You let it enter,
because we all start out open,
the folds of our bodies eventually closing in
only after we understand
the consequences of spaces, of why
we have bodies to contain ourselves,
and of…

And so I sleep another night unsettled
A tiny pebble tumbled out of place
Brushed my thick scales backwards
Left every bone awkwardly aligned

Yet my pillows will be grateful
For I will quench their salty thirst
With each tiny droplet, I offer a taste
And hope the bitterness in my own mouth
…