Eve Rounds

my mind mine

i am in every room
eclectic functions
grounded purpose
my
vulnerable brain
unruly mind
neglecting to preheat the oven
succumbing to the chorus that’s been following me for days
one by one
my
impotent blood
disobedient cells
failing to dream on my hands
yielding to the criss cross breeze and an adequate book
for a collection of moments
what
is
mine

but ok but

write some poems that i can give him ok (but they’ll all be about the hims) good idea bad idea no good twinning and losing

a 5 7 5 for e

peering through thick glass your back to me is waiting any news at all? running down broad steps into your brotherly arms crying without breath!

incircles

is it the ticking of the third hand or the faucet dripping onto discount bulk blueberries both measuring time “going in circles” as he would

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