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Haiku Poems: On What I Won’t Experience with the New Him
fingers through your hair
the feel of just-mown lawn grass
sparks fly with my touch
so you want to go back
Japan is lovely I hear
no more me to see
You dropped me with two little words. Happy Holidays. What the fuck kind of thing is that to say? I love my men instantaneously.
And am always surprised when the two of us, “us,” combust spontaneously internally how could this happen to me how could he/you not love me why am I powerless to stop myself or him or you.
It’s not meant to be a dig I’m sure
It just does
Deep down
Disrupting fragile roots
Severing some, severely damaging others
Nonessentials are left unharmed
Ramblings of a Medicated Lady: Words of Woe by Loria Taylor 
Your Sympathies: