MY RIGHTS

You’re yawning up way too much

of this life

I’m just waiting for your death

so I can cherish your words

in another matter

I’m a reflection, rather than a thief

when it comes down

to syllables

What is needed is taken

What is taken isn’t yours

to begin with

What is ordained

remains the glowing ash

before the sweep

Stop your moon-trafficking

and dissolve

LET'S GET SORTED

She is neither woman nor child

but she makes my gut weep

for suspenseful solitude

An abridgement of our life

Sorted, signed, and agreed upon

Shackled to the heart but not to the arms