For tonight’s post (another late one), I’ve two of my own poem-babies. Since they’re twins (fraternal), they’ll likely only ever be presented as a package deal until they grow up a little.
On Loving Tall Men It’s more than the security or the making eagles of their chests with my own small hands. I like to keep what I want most at arm’s length, and theirs are long enough to pull me back. - On Not Loving Writers They will be long in falling for you, and in that time you will learn to be ashamed of how much softer their hands are than yours. So busy with perfecting their lines for you, they won’t notice you’ve left the room.