Tuesday, November 27, 2018

find me

in the space
between breaths

between this world
and the one
you cannot see


after the divorce

naked became
mother's normal

so desperate for attention
she demanded it
from her children


to one, I am meek
to another, aggressive
my hands
are cut and tired
from holding your mirror


how twilight
blankets trees
I cover
my aging body

*Published in Atlas Poetica 32