The Stars Are Pears That No One

I Did Not Know The Woman I Would Be Nor That Blood Would Bloom In Me Each Month Like An Exotic Flower, Nor That Children, Two Monuments, Would Break From Between My Legs.

When I Lie Down To Love, Old Dwarf Heart Shakes Her Head. Like An Imbecile She Was Born Old.

And Tonight Our Skin, Our Bones, That Have Survived Our Fathers, Will Meet, Delicate In The Hold, Fastened Together In An Intricate Lock. Then One Of Us Will Shout, "my Need Is More Desperate!" And I Will Eat You Slowly With Kisses Even Though The Killer In You Has Gotten Out.

One Of My Secret Instructions To Myself As A Poet Is "whatever You Do, Don't Be Boring."

I Was Only Sitting Here In My White Study With The Awful Black Words Pushing Me Around.