ALL GROWED UP

tho we fall down
when shame is thick
about our waists
attitudinal
in grim opposition
to the masterworks
of divine centures
ink had flowed
— the only rushing
of my lover’s voice
thru the reeds —
tripled in hindsight
or else calibrate
to a more manageable woe
what mediates entanglement
and could
I walk through
the adumbriated networks
lunar ateliers’
iridescend gondoliers
the color of your truelove’s eyes
god said find a door
and paint it

—

from the Third Spring issue of Common Place

Read more here

—

By Julian Talamantez Brolaski 👍