Black Bench

March 21, 2022January 6, 2022 ~ tayslowe ~ Leave a comment

I remember you most on a black bench, fingers on the keys, trying to play as passionately as you wanted to be, as you were, for you held your wild heart uncertainly. You knew not how to hold it properly. But all I could hear was you banging too hard on the keys. Trying to … Continue reading Black Bench

Honey

February 24, 2022January 6, 2022 ~ tayslowe ~ Leave a comment

I forgot that honey makes me think of you. Your mother horded all her harvested honey in jars on the highest cuboard, though she had sworn a life of sugar, dairy, meat, and wheat celibacy. Honey was all she had left. Honey for another day. But you'd take down a jar, when you'd make me … Continue reading Honey