They all came, some wore sentiments
Emblazoned on T-shirts, proclaiming the lateness
Of the hour, and indeed the sun slanted its rays
Through branches of Norfolk Island pine as though
Politely clearing its throat…
—John Ashbery, “The Other Tradition”

I have kept you secret, in the treasure cove of my chest. But as molasses leaks from its gunny bag, so my mind secretes, out- a perfume whisking in the air, ...

when i learned that all of lust, was nothing my heart burned to know you, and that sorrow sometimes made me wish it never entered my heart, living as my heart dies .

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sometimes i tell my heart forget that love, for sometime, leave it digged in deep .