The space vacated/
when I clean my life of junk/
leaves room for wonder.
The space vacated/
when I clean my life of junk/
leaves room for wonder.
Can I handle the touch?
I think so,
for when you’ve craved something so much
you relish every bite,
every morsel and taste.
You never let lips take flight,
nor waste
the tender newness
and gentle caress
of what you’ve waited so long for,
sans haste.
I was so glad to/
be able to say something,/
I didn’t let you.
When I was young I/
climbed a fence and ripped my crotch./
I’ve bound’ry issues.