- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Coffee Grounds and Eggshells
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I wrote the Book of Love
Sounds impossible, but it’s true
All I have left of the Book Of Love
is this letter
All I have of you
is a memory
I carried the Book Of Love around with me
and bled words into it
I poured dreams onto
paper stained with tears
I bet on love
instead of against it
The Book Of Love
is now a gift ungiven
Soon it will fill land
in a landfill somewhere
but now it lives
(for a while at least)
at the bottom
of a Glad bag
among the
coffee grounds and eggshells.
