grape on a vine, pregnant
with the sour taste of potential
for far off fruit, summons itself
Copyright © 2015 Stephanie Ambroise All Rights Reserved
1 day, 12 hours
i am not a poet.
the creases in my fingers
do not exist
to the whim of my heart’s need
to expel verbal aesthetics, 174 more words
3 days, 8 hours
Lilac laugh lines crack the grass,
the sun giggles itself to sleep
the night colors the lake melancholy
still life paints movement.
… 39 more words
6 days, 15 hours
for those of you
who used my heart
as a halfway house…
i hope the outside
sees you as safe.
that your lovers do not flee from you… 29 more words
6 days, 16 hours
6 days, 17 hours
The Path of a Goddess
Impress upon my hips the promises of your tongue, glide, smooth, teach me. You’ve become the master of this creation–or were you always a professor on the subject…perfect for this work? 65 more words
a bug held a whole universe
among my wooden floors,
but yearned a taste of a breeze
contained beyond my windows.
i have sor-row vision. i can… 73 more words
1 week, 3 days