Granddaughter
You’re a tarot card not yet dealt,tea leaves infusing in the womb,an impression brewing, a whiff of honeyed milk,a dream. Aren’t dreams like wombs?Dark...
Becoming Desire
Grandmother’s garden always lured:
blue-black tulips, glistening bruises,
unsubtle blurting poppies. Prone
as her peonies after rain, I lay waiting
to feel their exhalations
on my cheek. I...
