Forever Hold Your Peace, Speak Now OrDora Malech
Fancied myself a fine receptacle for as they say discarded sharps and you my miracle-cum-miracle in deaf gone blind water to wind. How did we aim to figure or to ground? Here lies the dowry hid beneath my tongue. Ours a most venial vernacular—do I make you happy did I make you happy?
Dora Malech Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2019, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|