Relics can be Bones that held Together, exoskeleton: A camera initiated In the summer of hate A serving tray bought In Town - You visited with Your daughter The thermos you drank Tea in, with ritual like it was the Body of Christ, containing wine, mixed with Your blood Relics can be old CD towers, … Continue reading Particle
poem
Midnight Calls
My body is fragile Crack me open at the seam in my Ribcage, like a damp wafer – watch the strawberry blood cake in exposed air. How many midnight calls, and dinnertime Interruptions can a heart take before the valves wear thin And the tell tale tingle moves up my arm? Doctor’s orders: I can’t … Continue reading Midnight Calls
“Be Brave”
Don't tell me to Be Brave, again, as if courage is instinct for half of us and Learned Behavior for XX chromosomes alone. As if my going out is not its own defiant act And my speaking: Bold, Direct is not akin to wielding the sword. Don't tell me Courage is: holding my tongue and … Continue reading “Be Brave”
Dying
When it's my time I want to know: what it feels like There are opportunities for second chances, but this isn't one. I want to know what it was like, before the morphine drip, dripping And the rockabye easing out I woke up in the world screaming What is it like to end?
Everyone Who Searches
And everyone who searches finds - maybe not the missing button, maybe an old note, yellowed photo with a missing corner. And you realize what you find is good enough, or better And the cardigan can do without mending - its gapping filled for now with a memory of summertime, or last year's loss - … Continue reading Everyone Who Searches
frost bitten
You'll be kind and never lose your temper and no one will misunderstand your jokes. You'll wake up early and listen to the mourning dove sing dooo dooo do-do-do low-high calling the new day good. You'll always have spare change for the panhandler at his median … Continue reading frost bitten
untitled
Let me die in the summertime by a window, with the warmth, pushing through the fragile skin of my eyelids Let me die in a quiet room; with the tea kettle on in the kitchen and the laundry spinning, pulsing like blood through beating hearts. Let me die with a cat at my feet and … Continue reading untitled
two post it notes
Someday, when the world begins to darken, I'll walk in the silence of early morning, peering into empty shops with cataract gray eyes And I'll remember being young, moving fast, skin smooth like a new bar of soap, and wondering when I would make it. I'll know then, there is no making it. Child, you're … Continue reading two post it notes
Leah Wise 