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Meraki
April 3, 2019
Poetry is your scent in my lungs,
Our toes in the sand
Your hand in my hand
Poetry is the skeletons in my closet
The demons that see me
My smile that's sinking
Poetry is feeding
Ineffable feelings
Till they nibble from your Palm
Poetry is fearing
My choices that steer me
When I'm not in control
Poetry is knowing
That all things worth knowing
Are sometimes not worth knowing at all
Poetry is speaking
Meekly and weakly
Dissolving in our arms
© Mary A., Fullerton, CA
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This is what poetry means to me.