days grab at the
skirt i never wear, the
one my mother wanted for me

at night i see dark clouds gathering
bringing me nothing but sweet relief
whether i sleep or just write in the night

my lover is wife and strife sometimes
everyone and the ants and the bees are
kin to me though i am not an orphan alone

peace means i have been quiet and listened
feel your lips on the hurt of how i see myself
till in the morning i wake amazed at my reflection


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