top of page
Can I have a hug that’s too long?
Can I sit beside you, where you pat down on the bench?
Can I sink in a pool and you scoop me out with a leaf? Swatting the water one way or another till my legs can kick me close enough to the edge
It might take many leaves
I want to sing in your arms
I’ll face away from your ears, I will
And your nose if I’ve had onion
It’s not a small thing to be held
up next:
bottom of page