Collocation, Saudade
Late at night making love, peignoir
& a glaciated window, you touched me everywhere
What Is The Weight Of An Unspoken Farewell?
In my secondary school days, in every one of my classes, there was always a classmate who would die.
To A Poetry Editor About Weightless Gravity
In this poem, i remain a dog, barking at the unseen in the middle of the night,
Measuring its agitations by a quadratic formula…
My Therapist Kept Smiling At My Tricks
I look at the portrait of my father again
and see in his big smile an ocean where
my mother bathes on its shores.
The Trials Of A Witch
She knew it was me who took our stepmom’s bottle of kayan mata and poisoned it.