Another cryptic poem about fish.
five-forty
Timely.
forrest, from your (favorite) progeny
November.
for you
I suppose this is what I meant to write all along.
The Addie Family
productivity
beaks on
we strap beaks around our ears breathe in herbs like potpourri the air isn’t safe without it and I haven’t seen your bare cheeks in months, in weeks your eyes glitter from behind plastic lenses meant to keep you safe from me me, who you once said was your only PPE talk to me through […]
pandemic protocols
capable of new experiences
eschar vs echar de menos
I find this poetic, however, I don’t feel like writing a poem about the difference between you and me between English and Spanish between one letter “s” and the lack thereof between taking out the trash and filling it up between neglecting and rejecting between loving and leaving between physical pain and an emotional change […]
Autumn, 2020
Outside, leaves are falling and my excitement is rising.
