melissaahowells

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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

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WE SHARE... march 2021 poetry


*******

we are two
two men
two lovers
in one shared flat

our space was close
now even smaller
as the world's paused
and we've consolidated
we're compact

we share
the space
the table
the shower
and especially the bed

he sleeps easily
noise-fully snoring
sonorously
loud-fully
as I watch him--
with all the minutes
and the hours studying his profile
I could sketch him in my head

He eats
and smacks his lips
belches like a sonic boom
and then coyly grins

He snorts often
when he's laughing
trims his nails with his teeth
and uses a card to pick at his mouth
he might be brushing them
instead

He leaves piles of clothes
in every room
and whiskers in the sink
the clothes gather like mineral deposits
accumulating on the floor
the chairs
the bed

my eyes follow him
noticing whatever he does
wherever he goes

I sigh deeply when he returns
his frame filling the doorway
never block out the sun

any room he leaves
feels half-empty
he doesn't complain
as I follow him picking up dishes
and folding clothes

in the morning
I see him wearing pinstripes
peering underneath his long overcoat
and how his cologne
often lingers
and how I lean into its bouquet
long after he's left for work.


legal copyright for this poem 10:10 AM PST time and date stamped--2/24/2021
and also FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND
ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD....

WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE, WILL RETURN FOR EDITING AS NEEDED








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