Dear Poem,

Sage CohenSage poetry and prose2 Comments

Theo and I sit on the loveseat,
my body a parenthesis enclosing

the small exclamation of his.
We study the six spider

webs on the other side
of our dividing glass

that seem to hold our home
together. This is what it is like

to be inside of you
dew suggesting diamonds

all along the improbable
silk of your weave

spun of nothing,
stitched to air

and yet holding
our world together.

2 Comments on “Dear Poem,”

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