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daisy poems Poems

four of cups

able to sit with the italics

for emphasis,

I drew the four of cups on his birthday –

attached to nothing but the bold print

of his whisper – inarticulate,

except to cats who hear every pulse

of a mouse in the darklisten

  • my aloneness seeks imagination

for a morphine fix –

limbo

-how can we connect to our own hearts

if the pulse pounds in our head

  • our head
  • our head
  • our head

our head seeks thoughts

to feed the amphetamine beat

of a beautiful butterfly wing

or

artery losing blood from the torn-off limb –

but I have three other cups to bring to my ear

to hear love’s whisper today

and I have to go to work