with time, and

morning on my hips
i mosey to the kitchen,
look for a cereal bowl,
or an eventual afternoon

i find a piece of you
still stuck in my hair
and i’m flattered,
i suppose the same

can anyone imagine?
it smelled like rain,
and i’m sort of sorry now
for meticulously running

that matted strand
directly under tap water
working the candy mess
out, and down the drain

like whatever
got stuck on me
was neither body nor spirit,
and could not remain


for Real Toads


19 thoughts on “with time, and

  1. I have always loved your work, but something has happened in the past couple of months that’s added some grit to your already stellar style.

    Phenomenal opening and follow-through. You’re kickin’ some ass, girl.

    1. YES! What Shawna said.

      In fact, the way you have first tiptoed and then plunged into the sensual waters has me wanting to spread my writing wings a bit, too.

      You are truly Angie Inspired (inspiring!) This writing suits you – it’s gorgeous.

      1. I don’t know. I think I’ve given myself permission to write what the heck I want. Glad it’s inspiring you M! But I also don’t want it to become my new strange “thang” 🙃 if you know what I mean.

  2. For those of us who have distanced from such beds & hours & mornings, “remain” is a ghostly refrain that works through the soundscape of the poem like a pearl’s stain. Amen.

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