top of page
  • Writer's pictureNic

The Third Thief

Opportunity makes the thief,

and you give me plenty: fire

left unattended, hours which

nobody counts, a button left

where it fell, surreptitious

touches, the color of your skin

caught in morning sunlight, the

shape of your anger. Hope. You.

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

On Knowing

For my friend on the occasion of her wedding. What I know of mirrors is their imperfection, their imbalance of mathematics: one reflects one, & we imagine this is wholeness & we believe we know oursel

On Art

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 keen, nor compelling, not enough, not when you already know how

Discretion

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. There is no revelry in roots no matter how deep they run, only f

bottom of page