without a pencil
I use my breath to write you
love letters
*
crazy woman
inviting the scorpion into the boat
without a second thought
*
I am here because
I heard the crow sing, though now
the sky is empty
*
darling, if I can’t
have you forever, I’ll take
half of forever
*
coming to know
the Self as a pearl inside
a dying clam
*
writing of love
does not make a kiss—given
a choice, choose lips
I especially like the sounds of the last choice, which seem to embody the sound of a kiss. And the pearl for its view of the body as disposable. I also think it wise of you to frame the six with the writing / love set as first and last.