night, lit
by moon's light.
red lip, bit
redder.
moon white like
bedknob and
its whitened knuckle:
taut skin.
smoothed down.
redder.
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why do i write these things?
something something the warren something
because love is the great good use one person makes of another (daughter polly of the strawberry letter).
this is the current beginning (home-?) page of the warren that i'm hoping this blog will become. as various poems originally composed mostly on this blog turn into...uh, collections, i guess is a good term, i'll turn them into their own blogs and then they'll connect to this blog, findable right below this section, under "books" (though that's not not a misnomer as a title).
it's a way for me to organize the body of the stuff i've turned out--and like--into books without actually having to find a publisher to do it for me on paper. anyway, enjoy! (?)
About Me
- sra
- either these nuclear curtains go or i do.
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