To my fellow poets and readers of the blog.
"and the truth is I do not know if I'm expecting
to make live"
tc. TABLE
As much as I paint and paint
can not erase my memories and the voices
between the surface
sunk into the recesses of all my spaces
those words that were once in my edges
all
screams and cries of yesterday
I kept them in the bark of the tree that I
and hands resting on my back
smoky brown, I say let me be
as I'm naked and warm
really lends itself to the confidence and conversation
with books and wine and snacks
participate in this silence where
daily without any makeup and I have only listened
key to all secrets in the kitchen where
long live still and quiet
may sometimes
smiling so much useless conversation with boredom overwhelms me tight
in my pores
waiting waiting and the truth is I do not know if I'm expecting to be able to live
.
December 2010 - January 22, 2011
THE OTHER.
I do not know what to do with where to put
composure saving
which trunk to use to settle down and feel the warmth
be folded and stored
protected and not afraid to weather high winds
or the
storm over growing from inside like a volcano
I have fear of what I feel sometimes I get confused
and what is worse I have fear of me.
22, January, 2011
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