I wrote this piece many weeks ago, about living as a foster parent and a woman. Now at last I am young enough to share it.
It is concrete poetry. If you are reading it on your phone, you may need to turn your screen or find a larger one for proper viewing, or click here.
My love is love is love
And does not change with changes
Feelings may turn from pleasure to pain, hope to loss, joy to shame
But the present pain will be exactly equal to the previous pleasure
There shall be no diminishing
My heart is riddled with holes
that will not