Out of Reach
Inside, I feel stupid, I’m praying—
I really hope she can’t tell.
Another Pair
You wear black polished boots,
Its laces wound around your leg
Yours
Every bathroom stall I ever visited,
Bears an inscription of us.
Impasse
Beethoven heard the silence.
He created poetry with his fingers
Loving you
I have known you—
Maybe from two lifetimes ago.
I plan my life out a day at a time, so my posting schedule can be erratic.
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