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.