Eve Rounds

i wrote you a poem

my mind jumps rope
from you to him to her to them
sometimes tripping
sometimes double skipping
no need to catch my breath
you’re there each time
the hot rain
cools my cheeks
you’re there each time
the bedroom plants are watered
from the outside
i’ve stopped stalking storms
sometimes retreating
sometimes greeting
they find me tying knots
you’re there each time

a poem about you for you (and you)

you are your own though your temperament reminds me of him your head is more ripe mango while his was more soft plum my love

i don’t even know

how long it’s been. haven’t been counting days haven’t counted backwards on the calendar. haven’t bothered to reread my own words. haven’t been missing you

the five senses

your blue eyes and crooked lippy smile which i inherited that tiny soft bristle brush for your basically bald head the white corvette a campfire cards


what did falling in love feel like to you actual falling a new winter sweater a blood flutter did you question its science or were you


sometimes the wind the waves muffle and drown my memories sometimes the wind the waves magnify and amplify the sound of your voice and clearing

the theatre

this is  a silent film flickering  catching  starting over emptiness surrounding such a blinding contrast ahead of us shared stories  captured images disconnected nonsensical we