Two Poems

by Debbie Collins

He Says

I am fierce

He says I’m fierce

With my hair on fire and slash of a grin
Destroying all his good intentions

His hands write a song on my body
The lyrics thrum like jazz, alive in a smoky room

I devastate his jutting hip bones and
Sharp shins as he falls apart above me

I wake to find his face
A regrettable blur against the pillow

I make a pot of coffee and drink it all myself

He thinks I’m terribly beautiful

He says I’m fierce

The Collapse

the ivy is ever growing
up the mossy front of
our house

we get sun from the east
but a big sassafras
blocks it out as you slowly
do the same with me

all my gardener friends
tell me that the ivy will
creep in and work its way
into the mortar between the bricks

the house is crumbling around me
but I can’t raise my head to care
let the ivy take over the ruin
of our house and our expectations

When not reading or writing, Debbie enjoys letting her dog drag her around the block in her Richmond, Virginia neighborhood and cooking for two. Debbie attended Virginia Commonwealth University but bailed after The Faerie Queene in her third year.  There’s only so much a student can take.  She has been published in Third Wednesday, The Wild Word, and antinarrative, among others.

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