When April bends above me And finds me fast asleep, Dust need not keep the secret A live heart died to keep. When April tells the thrushes, The meadow-larks will know, And pipe the three words lightly To all the winds that blow. Above his roof the swallows, In notes like far-blown . . .
On Anatomy and Physiology
I still remember just how you look naked, the pale curve of your back, the quiet inlet where it bends to meet the taper of your waist, shower water wending where it will along the architecture of your form. There may have been studies of a form such as yours, that begged charges look and . . .
Good Neighbors
He wondered how she knew about the Cheetos; he thought he'd washed the orange dust off clean. Did she note down each case of beef burritos the dry-ice truck delivered, sight unseen? And what about the Snickers bags? Did she use high-powered binoculars to scan? Did she note down each luscious . . .
Come
Come, tangle yourself in me. —L.L. Barkat, from The Novelist For more on The Novelist, visit Tweetspeak Poetry Check out Funny Love Songs Check out Romantic Love Songs . . .
Gathered
The day rose with shivered light, bees braiding a path before his eye had even opened. Rose the woman, resonant as a struck cello. The beekeeper entered his kitchen among the crumbs from dinner, all taste a light on the tongue. Blind, but it was only light, bees blurring past, . . .
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