when i am in your
two hands cupped
like a small white bird
with a small soft coo
and wet eyes
and all
i cant remember how it felt
not to be
and cant imagine why
i wasn't
crawling out
of those two cupped hands
is like leaving the womb
rolling out of
the bed with plaid woolen blankets
and into the coldest damn morning
and i cant remember how it felt to
be held so warm
cant imagine why
i had to leave
2 comments:
Hey.
nice for a poem named Untitled.
cheers!
hey, allison,
glad you're still writing!
you're such a great poet.
are u still at sbcc?
ttys, doc
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