Empty Words
Tag: language
Honey & Poetry
Firestone Friday: Poem XVIII
You speak
different languages
between
the morning
and
the night,
and I love
the way
my name
sounds
in every
single
one
of them.
(Happy Valentine’s Day.)
Growth
You either
grow
flowers
or
weeds,
and you only
have so much
water.
Movement
With a thousand poems,
I try to tell you
how I feel about you,
but, with every failed lyric,
it’s clearer that
my passion
can only be expressed
with movement.
On Fire
But how
can you
put fire
in my veins
and tell me
you don’t like
the smell
of smoke?
Firestone Friday: Poem XVI
We’re all full of holes,
trying, desperately, to become wholes —
swelling, inserting, filling ourselves
with things as dispensable as they are harmful,
and we look over our
needles, nicotine, nudity, and nights
only long enough to wage
merciless judgments against
our neighbor’s holes-filler.
–Strong Language by Logan Gorg
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