By Serena Tome
“What could I do with a man?—
pull him on like these oxhide boots,
the color of plums, dipped in blue ink
and stomp hell out of my loneliness,
this hoe that with each use grows sharper.”
Feed him like goldfish—
your every secret
until
he becomes your friend
Do not make him
your lover too soon or he will
eat all of the grapes from
the vine and will not share
its gaiety
with
You—
Clutching at Straws 