Lost Girl Sonnet

Lost Girl SonnetMuscles jos­tle against waterlilies.A scab can cov­er a wound for a punc­tu­at­ed year.I am like this some­times— A cat lick­ing chick­en juice out of the bot­tom of the sink.The thing about the past is that the phone always picks up.Random facts nev­er come to mind when you need a ran­dom fact.Of all the …