while I choke on my own breath, you walk out your door and welcome sun into your veins. while I am writing poems in the frigidity of night, you are fast asleep. when I cry, you are laughing, making commentaries on the color of his eyes and the smooth silk way he talks.
7.15.15
YOU ARE READING
the stage manager is tearing seams and drinking salty coffee (a book of poems by
Poetryfrom the strangest corners of my head. colleen cosette goodman © 2015-2016