Their curious fingers
scoured the world before their eyes
even opened and they clasped
the whole of their hands
around my pinkies, saying
more than any words
they’d ever utter.

Nine months was not enough; I swear
they’ll be in me forever.





Part and Parcel

I parcel out my heart
in stanzas sliced from its surface
like lamb on a döner kebap

always led in circles, but
never getting anywhere —

so that these words are
given a chance
to bleed and beat
on tongues I’ll never know.

Artes, Scientia, Veritas

I breathed in
maize and blue
for so long
that my lumpen lungs
became stained
with intellectual war paint,

but I shed
my Wolverine skin
when I stepped into
the Golden Grizzlies’ den.
Still, I bear
the pursuits
sealed upon my heart.

(In case what is below appears as simply a link, it is meant to be a Yeah Write Editor’s Choice badge. I seem to struggle to get such badges to work for some odd reason.)

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