Corinne LaMoreHarber

Lingering past the
Landmarks of my life
Looming, limitless in
Shame
...

I could almost applaud you
for the way you wrapped
my feelings up in the
brown paper bag that you
...

The World comes back again
My senses stir
The house is alive, it breathes,
It sighs,
...

Remember,
This is not real.
So feel free
To dismember me,
...

In the early days
Of Fall
The Summer still
Burned on my skin
...

You have hidden places
Forgotten
Lost, lonely spaces
Unappreciated
...

Toward
silhouettes of tree tops
pressed
against an orange
...

the truth,
it splinters in your hands
and the Light
is bitter on your tongue
...

There was life
in my voice
but only disappointment
in hers,
...

The smell of
leather
Reminds me
of blazing Summers,
...

Delicately wrapped up in redemption
and lace
Only old, useless things
in the stillness of quiet waters
...

I say,
I only want
To see
What you’ve become.
...

We were children
Watching
Children Kill.
Through the iridescent,
...

I rubbed out
your face
with the eraser
of a No.2 pencil
...

Your face,
like the rings
inside trees,
measures my years,
...

You could hide away
with me
in the early chapters
on the yellow pages
...

How tragically cliche
to conceive in a
matter of a day
a crisp,
...

It hurts to remember
And it hurts to forget-
the days when
doing dirty things
...

I used your name long before
As something so sacred
When there were bigger dreams
On my plate
...