Tagged: wrinkle

two bruises into

two bruises into
the morning, counting only
the corners that i

remember – some days just shrink
a little, wrinkling our spaces

days before the new

days before the new
year, old
memories stumble
upon even older
memories, overlap,
wrinkle, uninvited.
between resisting
and not resisting
is the acceptance
that they will arise
fewer and farther
between in the
years to come.
let them
kaleidoscope in
remembrance of us

** in the absence of The Daily Post from WordPress, here’s your daily prompt: remembrance

to iron out a

to iron out a
stubborn wrinkle requires time,
a night of snow, a

whistling teapot, enough
layers to shake loose the ache

even without doing

even without doing
a single thing
differently, i am
not imagining that these
lines are deepening –
as if i am each day’s
drill held in, an
afternoon’s winding
thread lingering
over her embroidery,
the sunset’s lovesick
shadow, still tracing
each withering horizon