<Previous      Next>
Milk (Version #2)

Milk. Sours. Inside you. My Love.
Sours. Turns into Milkweed. We cry
curdled tears. thoughts of you.
Soured. I block the trail from cheek
to tongue with my dam of pursed lips.
The pucker of loss. I share your pain.
I too sour over the son I will never know.