97/365 - 101/365

08.15.10
On my left forearm—
without warning, a green bruise—
a tightly clenched fist.

08.16.10
Middle of the night.
Insomnia on my chest—
you sleep unaware.

08.17.10
Feelings of strong guilt
inhibit the writing mind
and silence the muse.

08.18.10
I lather my face
with soap while in the next room
you fold back the bed.

08.19.10
Two young girls walk by
with braided arms —entwined tight—
entering my poems.