SOMEDAY VIEWS FROM FLORENCE

A writer, long-haired, flimsy summer frock, flowering. Morning coffee is ready, a cube of white sugar, a clumsy spill of brown. She wears her Florentine freckles with pride. Summer has been kissing her lovely again. She greets the fat housecat. The silky beast nuzzles her ankles. Sip slow, early risers. The writer has many loversContinue reading “SOMEDAY VIEWS FROM FLORENCE”

I’LL FIND YOU UNDER THE WEATHER

I am sick with love. Not of it. But with and within it. Knotted hair, morning after.The sour burning regret of bile.These sticky sorry secrets we keep,how sweetly my skin absorbs them. I am sick with love,our incurable disease, this shakysyndrome of always longing.For what? I am sick with love,For who? You and only you.IContinue reading “I’LL FIND YOU UNDER THE WEATHER”