Eve Rounds

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 any less.
haven’t been hurting any less.
less is more only in mutations and dreams.
obsessions of your absence spark from moment to moment.
you never saw my wedding dress. a surprise that never had the chance to brighten your eyes.
you don’t feel me growing as a mom. as a friend. learning to be fully both inspired by my own.
you won’t experience my degeneration. the only light. though it blinds.


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