My Poetry

(prompt from @theconstantpoet) Plot twist. There are none. My poems are buried deep within me, layers of sediment and time sealing them...

The handcuffs crafted of gold get so tight this week my wrists are left with red marks and skin rubbed raw A discomfort distracting...

When I think of the women in my lineage, I know that I carry The voices of wisdom who did not have access to write their stories. I...

A moment on the lips, forever on the hips, eh? Then my hips hold onto forever moments Of tart lemon curd spread across a flaky hot scone...