the umbra
of whatever it is that is left
when love no longer breathes.

a portuguese man
who loves a man
is neither a man
nor portuguese

i could say
i wildflowered,
though the image
may be feminine

To clean up my mess and start anew with a clean slate I need only press one button. Just one. One button. Virus gone

I learned that the beauty of language is that we are all part of that language, that as we study what it means to be a noun, or a verb, or an adjective

You see them sitting on the patios of the restaurants that adorn 17th Street here in Dupont Circle, strewn in masses of muscle and cologne.