The Thing about Mornings
I’ll never forget
Splayed on memorial benches
Morning dew falling on locks like overgrown caterpillars
Crawling to crystallized captivity
Sunrise evaporating what moisture...
we are passionate goddesses parading in
that mirror our enticing hips.
Underneath ragged watchcaps,
we are tender goddesses
that accentuate our nobility.
Abandoning Reasonskittering propositions
damned to believing itself
we choose not to control
the burning breakdowns in logic
we’ve opened between us
Love, Past Continuous
there are no forevers