Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Thu, 10 Jun 21 19:48:08 +0000 View Full Post Inheritance I was birthed in a stable surrounded by sleeping sheep. My mother heaved emptiness into her womb into my belly. My mother’s last conscious breat...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Fri, 07 Aug 20 16:52:26 +0000 View Full Post What Iris Beheld Her She lay down beneath the sea and rest her palms upon sunless sand. The water’s weight like empty love; silent but for the noise of its mo...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Fri, 07 Aug 20 15:52:32 +0000 View Full Post Uncertain Let Aphrodite have the irises and warm floral evenings; Aries the fire, roses, and wind. Give children the sunrise, starlight, and constellations. L...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Tue, 09 Jul 19 17:03:58 +0000 View Full Post Digging to ChinaI was digging my way to China, shovel and all, hands dirtying with the miles of mud I dug, displaced, mud I dug, displaced, displaced. I was d...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Thu, 18 Apr 19 17:09:56 +0000 View Full Post ImmortelleI live in a suburb on the windowsill of an old maid’s home. She never leaves for fear of the blowing wind. The walls are papered with my face, her nov...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Fri, 01 Jun 18 20:01:32 +0000 View Full Post O Black Tree of Blood Sap, Melt Reached for Saturn’s smiles Swift wind sliced open blue heart Fell into red night Bleeding aroma Sweat through faceless, knott...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Tue, 21 Mar 17 01:34:35 +0000 View Full Post Down in the Valley The mountains sighed, shrugging off their spring shawls, letting them fall into the seedless fields of the valley. The fool marched to gath...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Tue, 20 Sep 16 00:52:49 +0000 View Full Post My Sole DominionI betray the age of this earth. With my tongue I paint the flames of evening wheat fields; With my hair the billowing debutante gowns of willows...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Sat, 13 Aug 16 20:40:58 +0000 View Full Post Wendy There is no golden ship that could sail me higher than the stars of your eyes, the feather in your cap, or the staccato croon of your silver flute. Ther...
Post by A. M. Laine (@a_m_laine) on Fri, 29 Jul 16 05:30:37 +0000 View Full Post Paper Football Like a child playing paper football you flicked me through the handmade goal at which you were aiming. I was happy to be folded by your fingers ...
