x : Unknown

Poetry as History. History as Catharsis. Catharsis as Poetry.

[untitled]

okay, say good night,
but we can't, even to bring
it one day closer

[untitled]

she smiles, suddenly
i know all i need to know
about how we feel

undone and careless
we dance apart and alone
laughing secretly

secret smiles we hide
brashly offered words delight
love and hand puppets

coffee on the train
sad games and hard-won laughter
i miss you always

[untitled]

snow paints my treadpath
beating heart so close to skin
no sleep amidst trees

moonface turns away
pale clouds fold into themselves
cold rain slides to snow