Tag Archives: February

Letters Home

Posted on February 26, 2016 by Melanie Laura

What black lies in white with brown smudges?
what hands lie in wait for mixing colors?
I want to paint blue in front of you
hold services for your adolescence Continue reading →

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Longer Around

Posted on February 19, 2016 by Melanie Laura

I’m rounded and warm on the table
a solid bowl for you
in the wake of your flesh leak, I think mostly of your eyes
the outline of the space between your give and my bite
or the shadow that follows the shape of you, when you’re facing me
now I am out and over, with a spoon
ready to be slapped or served to you Continue reading →

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Bubble wrap

Posted on February 5, 2016 by Melanie Laura

I could not taste you close, when you first fed you were brown and beige colored memory then nearly four years later, we met again between Fort Greene stares my rolled up hair and my fingers numb I was cold … Continue reading →

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