Uncollected love letter (sunflower)
People ask what i’ve been reading and i say the beats so they’ll go away bukowski might also work i
just want to walk with you not in some time warp but here where the trees break the sidewalk into
dips and precipices careful not to get so bougie we forget to hold hands or wonder what to say when
a cloud dies you know more about longing than me though it’s close you know more about chaos in
your epic the women fight even while something kicks punches their insides the women spill blood
while blood drips between their legs so i want words tonight not to fix but honor every wound of
yours and you won’t accept anymore roses but maybe this sunflower bigger than our toddler’s head
taller than our house wild and tired so tired you reach for the flower shaped like a burning star
Justin Lacour lives in New Orleans with his wife and three children and edits Trampoline: A Journal of Poetry. His first full-length collection, A Season in Heck and Other Poems, is forthcoming from Fernwood Press.