You were supposed to love me as I was…
but you were the source of my
I’m becoming a woman of tonics and potions, and only / my cast-off Catholicism makes me feel guilty of it…
In the evening after lying in bed sick all day,
I take to walking around my new neighborhood in Georgia.
It isn’t much of one, this bedroom community
in Savannah’s south side.
I love the sound of the rain.
I love my feet in the sand.
I love my arms wrapped around a great redwood tree.
She had horses with eyes of trains.
She had horses with full, brown thighs.
She had horses who laughed too much.