This is that 



poem

the one your brain wanted to write at 1am
the one that came to you in the rain
the one that ran down the shower drain. 

it’s the one that got away
the one that wouldn’t stay 
the one that ran astray. 

this is that poem that 
haunts you 
taunts you 
flaunts its far-flung sway. 

You’ve moped 
and coaxed 
and fed it cokes 
and tried to sip it 
tip it 
flip it 
into that slant of sun, but 

this is the dark one,
the other side of the moon 
the swoon the world will 
never see 
festooned in all that 
whatmightbe 
the plague of possibility 
and things 
unspent 
unsent
undone. 

::

In November, we poem.

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8 Responses to This is that 

  1. Kir Piccini says:

    I will forever and ever love your words. Even the ones that get away. 😉

  2. Candace says:

    Oh, yes! I know that poem.

  3. Shawna says:

    This is so crazy good, girl.

    My favorite:

    “this is the dark one,
    the other side of the moon
    the swoon the world will
    never see
    festooned in all that
    whatmightbe”

Use your words.

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