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ABOUT ME
They come.
The words.
A title,
the snap of an ending,
triggering
a stream of lines
and spaces,
the pounding within,
that will not stop
until my mind is free
of the mess that is
my poetry.
They come.
The words.
A title,
the snap of an ending,
triggering
a stream of lines
and spaces,
the pounding within,
that will not stop
until my mind is free
of the mess that is
my poetry.
|
Melinda K Zarate
74 years old |
MY TEXTS, Archive 184 Texts
Dear Ralph (2) - 2026-03-26
Until Then (1) - 2026-03-26
After (3) - 2026-03-25
If We Knew (5) - 2026-03-24
Our Hands (2) - 2026-03-24
Filed Away (2) - 2026-03-23
We Walk Between (1) - 2026-03-22
That Something Within - 2026-03-21
And Leaves It There (3) - 2026-03-17
An Ode to Desire - 2026-03-17
Rising, Always Rising - 2026-03-16
I Am From (1) - 2026-03-12
A Shimmer Away - 2026-03-12
Shoreline Interruption (2) - 2026-03-11
I Believe God Weeps - 2026-03-09
Everything But Him (2) - 2026-03-06
The Pill Box (2) - 2026-03-06
May It Ever Be So - 2026-03-04
The Men on the Street Corner (5) - 2026-03-02
Revealing (2) - 2026-02-27
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