First Draft
blackberry honey
your thick honey meets my blackberry-craving tongue / dripping and lovely I’m melting in your palm / suddenly I remember singing in a churchyard / and for a brief moment I worry my sainthood has been abandoned all this time / but when your hand finds home around the back of my neck / liberated tree roots and vibrant green moss growing over the base of my skull / my memories there still with your love and Jesus too / your breath and my breath must be a new song / there is holiness in our hips where two or more are gathered / Raphael came in the middle of the night he told us we haven’t much time / so we hold each other and weep the way only angels can as blackberry honey fills our lungs
By Katarina Tyler6 months ago in Poets
The Language of Falling Leaves
🍂 Introduction: When Nature Teaches Us to Begin Again Every season carries its own poetry, but autumn speaks in a language unlike any other. The falling leaves are not just signs of endings—they are whispers of renewal, reminders that change, though sometimes painful, is necessary for growth.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Poets
