~Eldest Daughter (April 29, 1989- )
I am not a poet: I am a fountain
words run through my veins like fire and blood
like a bird I am filled up with song
and my mouth is an unskilled beak.
In the stomach of my mind I hold the words I knew last night
I will turn them and beat
then I will let them drip
from the ends of
On the straight-ruled page they will lose their shape...
That was not what I meant to write.