Poetry: Two by Kevin Patrick Sullivan
Your Gift There are images maybe traces of tenderness a quiet breathing this shared breath waking next to you The Bridge Come from under the sun Leap into the…
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Your Gift There are images maybe traces of tenderness a quiet breathing this shared breath waking next to you The Bridge Come from under the sun Leap into the…
My mother has long wavy green hair she slaps at my ankles my thighs she wants to break over my head knock me down in the surf give me a…
Red — bright red against the clouds a cardinal sits high wavering with the wind Such a thin blue line circles the top of the world :: Kevin Patrick Sullivan