~hidden truths


i was born a well-read book

cracked spine

corners bent back

a run of notes filled

my margins


to he, who was my breath

my mirror’s face
death is unforgiving

and time is muted blue
like an acre of familiarity


a deadbeat tree scatters its roots
and leaves


so it was not one love
even coltrane can’t communicate

the uncoupling
the smoky ache of rum

and old jazz


suppose the sky is drunk

and rumbling again
who catches the rain when it falls?


because it’s summer

and half of each day

we are sinners

lah 7.13.15

By Lori Hamilton, © 2015, All rights reserved.


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