Tell my why I prefer naked moonlit nights to the shade of sunny days. I'm not white, I'm the color of murky ocean, curdling beneath me with drifting globes of jellyfish. I dream of peeking down below at all the things that grow there. I'm meant to lounge in softness, killing dragons, slaying monsters, in … Continue reading Shade of Summer Days
Category: Poetry
We Friends Don’t Talk Anymore
We don't talk anymore. Whether it's because you're hiking different cliffs followed by almost children, or because I'm too aware of the threat of your sex to what I need most. I don't know. But we don't talk anymore. I admit, I still wonder about the path you stood by and offered to me with … Continue reading We Friends Don’t Talk Anymore
Dandruff and Mothers
I don't have time to meet the end, I'm picking at my scalp and wondering-- no, knowing, you'll never try to change it. They call it pride. You call it personality. And I try at scabs and puss and stuff to distract me from never seeing you, because your demons had always danced and sung … Continue reading Dandruff and Mothers
Light my Nights
I find the sound of your tiny snores ease my darkest nights. A profile of long lashes and bits of polished sky-- bits of me. But I couldn't be this beautiful. I want to hold you like in the days when you despaired whenever you couldn't hear my heart, but you're older now. And no … Continue reading Light my Nights
Costly Flesh
I want to be slim as a curve of skin; want to bask in white sand waters. Sun me, you costly coasts, and let me try out just once, comfortable flesh. So comfortable that I don't feel naked in a swim suit, nor mince my steps to control the jello I've had since 13. But I'm … Continue reading Costly Flesh
A Little Walk
He paves a path through morning dew in search of apples. Little legs, though not as little as they use to be. Crows of sheep and points at goats, then waits to see if the cat's on the roof. Wanders back with upraised hands-- still little hands. Almost to big to carry home, but little enough … Continue reading A Little Walk
Godless Friend
It's late. I wonder why you Godless friend why it stings to roll and watch you muck yourself with your own love juices-- how it's only embarassing and not wrong to you. There is no love in sex for you. No 'love making.' No children, no family, only with convenience and it's stinging how I … Continue reading Godless Friend
My Two Boys Watching TV–and their matching cowlicks
Little swirls of bronze and gold, sat before a Disney rainbow, centered on the side of the skull. How I love those little skulls.
Mama, Autumn Comes
Mama, there is no easy path to ride into your Indian summers. Autumn is upon you now but you stoutly refuse to put on your coat or stop swimming in the ocean. Storms may come, but you insist you can mold any wave with your spirit that still sees itself riding mustangs in the desert, … Continue reading Mama, Autumn Comes
For Free
You're not getting out. Not from this, anyways. The land doesn't allow shacks with stone foundations, or even dirt. No home. Just fines. Because it devalues the mansion besides it. You pay the price but do not own the land. It takes you whole, demands you give more and more slices of a pie that's … Continue reading For Free
Author T.S. Lowe 