Lesley Taylor Poems

Her nails soft and chewed
graphite nestled deeply and
ink blotched on fingertips
calloused and cut in the battle
...

Frosty fingers intertwine
elaborate lace, peering eyes
and what is this I feel inside?
what darkness is amiss?
...

In this broken mess
when all else has failed
and I'm drawn to my weakest point
it is then that I look up
...

She writes at midnight
when whole towns have laid low their tiny heads
and only the one small light she writes by mars the opaque ebony
and only the little scratch-scratch-scratches
...

I was born in a printing press
I'll die as a thread
through a pin
in the rain
...

A lofty demise
for such a delicate flower.
A little martyr
that made it past the frigid night
...

Her curtain dress
Aimless flutter forward
Feeling cold to cover
frosted glass figure
...

The sky is high
but still almost touchable
hanging just above tremulous new-green leaves
which perch themselves unsteadily on
...

It holds you between the roof of it's mouth
and its pillowy tongue

ad as you sleep it sucks from you
...

He said watch the birds
and he said smile
and stare up at the sky
and you'll feel small
...