This is Probably True


All naked she peers through my eyes ready to dive into that cold dark lake, alone

a quiet stroke—

water quenches—

some say
the more you wrong,
the more you lay aside,
forgotten.

This is probably true.

Daffodils rest on my bed.

This is Probably True

All naked she peers through my eyes ready to dive into that cold dark lake, alone

 

a quiet stroke—

 

water quenches—

 

some say

the more you wrong,

the more you lay aside,

forgotten.

 

This is probably true.

Daffodils rest on my bed.