"Maybe a rabbit is next. If I can find gentler attendance in me."
I'd not bend you towards gentleness, o wolf,
were it your teeth I'd find against my neck.
How wide and satisfied my jaws, o rabbit,
to find your tenderness so sweet therein.
For my friend on the occasion of her wedding. What I know of mirrors is their imperfection, their imbalance of mathematics: one reflects...
For my friend on the occasion of his wedding. No eye for art, you said, and turned toward Hunger, livid color leaving you cold, neither...
It is not Death that watches us with suspicion, yet you invoke Her name anyway, make of Her a boundary, make of me an earthen intimacy....
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