poems can't persuade someone to love you
or disavow the fear of loving you
poems can't calm the rages you indulge
or erase the bruises you regret
poems will not dry your eyes
won't even dry your laundry
they are poor friends
who need you more than you need them
but still
when you take them out to coffee
you will pay their way
and when you speak about them to your friends
be kind.
* revised: simpler
2 comments:
this poem is beautiful, moving, and perhaps my favorite.
if poems are friends,
then
my breath,
my steps,
my eye blinking,
my sound and my smell
might be friends, too.
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