I was a thorn rushing to be with a rose,/ vinegar blending with honey, a pot of// poison turning to healing salve, patsy/ wine dregs thrown in the millrace. I was// a diseased eye reaching for Jesus' robe,/ raw meat cooking in the fire. Then I found/...

Love draws a dagger and pulls me close./ Lock and key. Bird with both wings// broken. The love religion is all that's/ written here. Who else would say this?// You open me wide open. Or you tie me/ tighter. The ball waits on the field// to be hit aga...

Morning opens a door with help for/ those who don't ask for any. Love// tears its shirt. Mind begins the sewing repair. You come and both// run off. I burn like aloe wood to/ touch the one who set this. Dressed// sometimes like disaster, sometimes/ l...

The shore thirsts, but does not own the ocean that keeps it soft. So, too, the heart and all it loves. - Mark Nepo I-ing and My-ing are learned. I-ing and my-ing are learned. We are not born to this earth perpetually focused on ourselves. At a ...