Aubade for the Lonely After
For when my hands grasp at the secret soaked silk sheets, and trace coolness up to the warmth of where the sweltering Texan sun beats. Thoughts haven’t slept silent and naked in days. Almost years. I am relearning facts about loss. How to allow grief to sit at a nightstand. Birds call their beloveds in adjectives. No cryptic verb or… Read more →
