Tuesday, August 14, 2012


i wrote a poem to your skin once,
while your mother made me tea.
i didn't read it to her, of course.

but she gave me a note
that called me 
her daughter-in-law,
she said it was our crime.

i tore it up after she left, hid 
the pieces under my mattress.
i drink tea by myself,
and write another poem to your skin.