Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘Tourniquet’


Your memory is a pantry cleaned of food, a shelf of peeled up paper and two ants fighting for the last stale crumb.   Your love was a tourniquet.   Your scent is fried chicken, a hated summer job. You peeled those work wears and picked lily of the valley, lit candles, cooked me food I’d never eaten – scallops, imitation crab.   You wrote poems, I threw them away. […]

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