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- for my sister poets
I wouldn’t call you flamboyant
well maybe a little bit wild
the same gluttonous glint
in your eye, a throbbing
from eardrum to womb
no matter how small
you keep singing
the moment
scraps of shimmer and dream
that you scribble and store
you live for the click
when it all comes together
your guts and your brain
in such hard-earned
effortless breath
until dark bleeds
into light
so luminous the lines
sweet incantations
kissing the tongue
copyright 2019
Amy
Uyematsu |
