flowersforplath

22. You would have held onto me until you’ve grown in size, once you began to learn meals on the granite, your feet stretching on the maplewood floors, the smell ...

21. I'm going to love you like your bedroom walls never could; lay your forehead against me like the shower wall & try to recount every poem you've written. You ...

20. [CW: Miscarriage] When I first feel it in my stomach, we are at mass, & I am in my linen dress, pearl white like the color of four walls ...

19. There are cities in the palms of my hands, teeming with life like the Great Barrier Reef. I want you to stop sighing & slumping in your chair. I ...

18. If you turn around now & tell me that you want to be sky, then I will let you, as long as you promise to bleed the next eighty ...

17. There is still so much pavement left for me to see, & one day I want to be able to list all of the names of places that I’ve ...

16. When grandfather was alive he took me to that tree & picked me an apple & told me about family, i.e., mothers tied to mothers tied to mothers; now ...

15. Pebbles & pistachios wrinkle in our pockets like my mother’s attic wedding dress. From the side, your nose looks like an oil well. You tell me the weather will ...

14. The day we broke fast it was late July & your body tasted like heat & rain, even though it hadn’t rained all month. That July the grass died, ...

13. [CW: Miscarriage] There is sea salt all over my hands, & I know I'm not the ocean. Let's drink tea out of mason jars with cold porcelain shards instead ...

12. There is no confusion in the ways we hold our bodies in sleep. It is only unconscious order upon each other's skin.

Is the whole Beat thing your new favorite motif? Or are you just a nerd all of a sudden? ;)

9. Good luck, my fellow poets! :)

11. Jagged summer, my family rents a house on a lake. My first day there, I sit lulling in the water until I have completely finished picking apart my bones ...

10. Your face like a stomach in winter, all nauseous with snow. Your face as vulnerable as Virginia Woolf, reading until your abdomen cramps up. Your face as open as ...