Gloves | The Poetry Foundation
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How long can you speak. Without inhaling. How long. Can you inhale without. Bursting apart. History is wagging. Its ass at us. Twirling in its silver. Cape. I want to kiss. Your scalp. I want you to kiss. My friends. Can you see the wet. Azalea quivering. On its vine. Its ripening. Dread. If it never rained again. I would still wear. My coat. Still wrap. My socks in plastic. Doing. One thing is a way. Of not doing everything else. Today I answer only. To my war name. Wise. Salt. I can make. A stone float off into. The sky. I can make. A whole family. Disappear. I know.…
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