Eve Rounds

my mind mine

i am in every room
eclectic functions
grounded purpose
vulnerable brain
unruly mind
neglecting to preheat the oven
succumbing to the chorus that’s been following me for days
one by one
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

good morning untitled

what happens now save every voicemail not that his tone would have been forgotten but to hear him call me tweety as many times as

snip snip

the magic of a fresh cut i am literally lighter though not by much my shoulders have less to lug my neck has less to

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!


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