Thursday, March 2, 2017


imagined ancient love poems ]

MY LIPS are shy,

like a candle that will not flicker.

I WOULD twist my arms like coral

if that made them delicate enough to hold you.

COLOR IS sleeping in some birds

when the sun is too early

to make use of it.

THE SEASON is yet unlit

by the glint of the sewing needle.

The thread is stored away, the light

is an unwoven shirt.

I EMBRACED YOU by mistake

when I was only trying to caress you.

Now you love me.

WE CAME across a hunter disguised as a bird.

The towns pay these lords for protection. This is revealed

in a parable the women tell. They speak of a rose

that grew in the desert from a drop of blood.

WHO ARE you going to meet tonight

in the tall grass

where even snakes cannot find each other?

Your bare feet

will be the safest part of you.

CLAY pots, shaped from the inside

like a sun

when the sky was spinning.


Farrar 2016