abbreviated.

So, I’m not going to lie to you, few and faithful readers—I’ve written some poems lately. But lately, I haven’t wanted to put them here. I like them, and they’re part of the project, and of course they’re yours, but a girl must maintain some semblance of mystery.

I’ll put some up again, and soon, I hope.

Three years ago I wrote a series of sonnets to various doctors (this was the beginning of my love affair with the medical poem, partially out of which this tumblr was born); I was asked to read one at a workshop this week. I chose my favorite, which I’m sharing with you.

Advances have been made: An hour's all
I must lie here, flat on my back, wrist tied.
Moments ago, bent forward, I gasped and cried
and clutched you closely, pleading for a pause--
You smoothed my hair and hummed Lindsey, hang on--
I held. I held my breath, held still, held you,
who makes such love of such precise abuse--
The needle sang as you sang until it was done.

I can't explain the quality of pain,
but if I'm made to suffer, it's for this:
your fine warm pulse pressed to my spine--I feel
nothing but the whiteness of these sheets,
your skin, the bones bound underneath--You fit
your palm against the wound and say I'll heal.