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    • Dec 30, 2019

dear paul

once your hands made soft clay

out of the muscles of my neck

the ancient place

where i hold ten-year tension

muddy muscles melt

under your hands like rain


who taught you that kind of compassion?

and how could you touch me

so nurturing and so selfless

and not keep touching me?

how could you feel my lips

on your lips

and not taste more?

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