diaric, poetry

Sometimes you gotta cry

Sometimes you gotta cry, baby.
I know. I know. It’s okay. I understand. You go on and cry. We all gotta cry sometimes. I love you.
We’re almost there.
We’re almost home.

When you are suspicious, and yet, …it is catchy. Damn it!
But that doesn’t relieve the tension of my mistrust. What is your deal?
oh, hell. it’s not similarity, is it???

When he watches the movie for the first time,
and says, what. a. Psycho.

When your murky undulations epiphany—I don’t have to
say it like it’ll start a fight. cuz it won’t. he wants it, too.
(Your soft has a nestle here. You built it. Well. And he cheered all the while.)
In fact, he’s hungry for it.
That beautiful twinkling hunger he has
with the devouring undertow.

When unraveling keeps popping up.



Photo by Trevor McKinnon on Unsplash
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diaric, poetry

On This Day

this week: for what it’s worth & tomorrow 2
when you need an emergency meeting of the midday society
and tooth 7 is coming in
and i shall know the glories of those sock sneakers Balenciaga
—you mark my words;

who knew?
when pruning and weeding in the morning
—sunsplash soothed—
i didn’t realize that my favorite morning glories
are invasive! … Do I mind? I do mind their throttle
of the others.
I give the purple blooms and snaking vines a talking-to
as I tend my garden.
We can’t be doing this, my love. You know that.

When it’s all moving so dreadfully
slowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
treading water for a month
makes you remember calm and hoping it’s true
—the trust of unfolding—
and then you remember the hold Orpheus had on you then.



Photo by Bogdan Todoran on Unsplash
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