Holding you close, like cards to the chest.
Can you hear my heart, can you feel what’s bereft?
Scars that never healed, callused to stone.
A pebble in a landslide on its way home.
Love gives words more meaning than sex.
Feminine natures much like my ex.
Climbing and reaching out of self dug holes.
find not a lending hand, but Charon & tolls.
Presented with a misogynists end,
Picket line at my funeral—no amends…
