Category: Poetry

peeling the layers
of an onion
the dried skin
flaking away
down to the off-white flesh
of the fruit
pulling the
separate layers
that tell stories
unfolding them one by one
and holding
the flesh to your ear
and saying yes

waking you, softly

 you,
 in this light
        
the smell of dreams
and sleep.

and i
breathe you

you unfolding from your sleep.

you to life
         
i
can hold onto this

a decade

I went back
to the old books
because
I couldn’t remember
their stories

it’s strange
how much can change in ten years

the characters
felt so different

I couldn’t
read the same pages again
where I had once found
myself

it’s strange
what a decade can change