Posted in Uncategorized, tagged biology, body, love, new beginning, newness, parenting, poem, poetry, stomach on August 13, 2019| 2 Comments »
The stomach replaces its lining
every four days. Every four days.
Because it’s so highly corrosive,
every four days it remakes itself
and becomes completely new.
Love, this is what I want to do.
Because sometimes we are acid.
Because sometimes we are cruel.
I want to start over every four days.
Every four days, let us be new.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, new beginning, poem on March 24, 2013| 3 Comments »
Time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t’untie.
—Viola, Twelfth Night, Act II Sc. ii, William Shakespeare
Here, love, is my music,
here, my song,
play on, play on,
be sick of me.
And here the ropes
I’ve used to tie
our lives together.
Here the knots
and here the knife
to cut them.
Any anchor
I tether to you,
snap the lines.
Any claim
I make on your body,
your name, erase it.
And let’s meet
again, impossibly free,
as innocent as strangers.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, new beginning, old beginning, personal growth, sunrise on October 5, 2011| 2 Comments »
By the time
the sun comes
tomorrow we will
not be the same
people we were
when we met
the sun this morning.
Each revolution
a revolution.