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Draw an earthquake
with a ballpoint pen --
it doesn't feel
like destruction.
Once you loose your heat
it's gone
the ruin effortless
Hold in and back
like you've been struck,
swept up in the awe
of an entire life.
In the story
there are two daughters
and no father. How
the mouth’s tongue
searches for a space
Remind me
how we won't change
only the weather
How the man on the train
read Plato, wanted you
with his eyes. Think of
his children: the wiry
teen, the soft three year old.
It's not really
a demand,
so much as a fortune
the fall so long
it's not
remembered
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