Eve Rounds

invitation lost

existing in halves
one foot in the sand
one boot in the snow
full
and
void

rarely a windless day
and so the sky celebrates
releasing a net of frozen confetti

invisible birds trill
yet even their complaints
sound of a pleasantly generic playlist

icy fists hide in pockets
ready for the
surprise!
dry eyes squint in anticipation

the tide fails over and over
to fracture the seasonal divide
of my
consciousness

nevertheless the party continues
guests overstay their welcome
mingling in my hair
and the hallows of my snood
an unexpected ease in the emptiness
of my
thank you for coming.

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!

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