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Liz's avatar

"I hope you fuck your way across my name / in the graveyard" -- BRILLIANT

Christopher Phelps's avatar

Most poems that "stay on topic" this well end up missing the point somehow, whereas this one feels as true as human breath could carve itself to be. There are so many things to love (the sensory words, the tell-all candor, both delicate and transgressive, the circumspect though unaffected deer), but what I love most is that you really hoped, then asked, then pled with the moss, illustrating what it would be to fulfill a vow.

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