Your slight curve intimates there is another shoe
but everyone here walks the streets without a shoe.
I will not settle down with less than beauty, so
I will go to bed night after night with my shoe.
The pier walks you to see the seals swimming in pairs.
They slip by on their flippers, are not stopped by shoes.
It took me a lost time to stumble onto land
in search of love. My feet still pinch like brand-new shoes.
How do I write about a pain you do not share?
Hanging from the traffic light is a leather shoe.
The poem writes for relief and not for empathy.
It is my foot that is unbound from my old shoe.
Today is Field Day and the sun is bringing lunch.
You will fast, Jee, however, and walk in love’s shoes.