this sacred unmaking knowing that there are limited moons left to pass through my womb, knowing there are limited lives gripping my ovaries, knowing there are limited deep-dark streaks on my underpants, knowing there are limited cottons to soak my mean reds, knowing that the sacred unmaking of this body from maker to mother to… Continue reading POEM A DAY – July 30
Tag: mother
POEM A DAY – July 19
Crooked Family mother’s familial shapeistriangular she apexesthendaughter & other daughter a trifectathreesomethree musketeers west-end girls except daughterdeviates& angles shift tectonic loveindisruption mother’sscarcrooked over her collarbone daughterleaves& sides collapse families end, girls
POEM A DAY – July 9
Walking the Puppy Haiku leaf skitters on asphaltlanky legs airborne, full attackmust protect mother