I feel like I’m wrapping my collection up. It’s about as good as I can get it right now given where I am as a writer (possibly terrible, possibly OK), but who the hell really knows what will happen with it. I don’t feel done – I feel like I have a long way to go with it still. Soon it will be out of my hands and then back in and then out again.
I have no idea what I should call it or rather I have a list that I’m unsure of:
Unscheduled as a storm
Distance between two moths
A direction of knees
Where air has no architect
No matter what I do
(My??) eyes blue with wild
Things I’d never tell you
Lawn Chairs
Reasons you don’t love me
Part of me is leaning toward “Things I’d Never Tell You”
Thoughts??
Leave a Reply