photo from pixabay (Cilvarium)

These 3 sonnets were previously published in the now defunct Mojave Heart.

A Feral Girl Belongs Between The Trees

You trespass, sodden footprints in your wake,
into a kitchen for purloined cake, crumbs,
a dollop, butter cream.  Clean pewter plate 
while an entire household dreams. You succumb,
to ritual, sneak upstairs, nimble toes,
where they sleep unaware.  Exchange soiled dress 
until your armoire’s bare, grosgrain ribbons, stowed 
in pockets, for your feral hair, still wet 
a little from the lake, your evening bath 
before your stomach ached for cake, clothes stuff — 
you’ll find, again, through the servant’s entrance at half 
past ten.  This house was never quite enough 
even when it contained your family — 
a feral girl belongs between the trees.



Nipple Pulls you to his chest, after all the rest to fall asleep the way that he desires. you suckling his right nipple…