a room of her own.
her own. room.
of whispers and secrets
and music. given to her.
she keeps them. her own.
every tingle feeling from lover.
each tightly wound sentence
uttered near ear. each sisterphrase.
or mutual essence felt when reading
another's work.
when (he) said you make me happy.
when she glanced her whole
glance. and i knew.
when kerouac burst through.
when his song i his muse.
and my room i kept them.
always my room. my own.
2 comments:
(i think so too,
that virginia w.
is wonderful)
Freaking love this poem! Gosh, you are so talented. I have writer envy every time, followed by a bad case of writer's block.
Post a Comment