by Jeanette LeBlanc | | Poetry
Okay, so I’m a day late. But this one is worth it. Buddy Wakefield is a master. There is a point when tears don’t work to wash things away anymore. Grabbing for breath has now broken my fingers. I miss You so much some days that I beg for the airplane...
by Jeanette LeBlanc | | Poetry
“Love isn’t always magic. But if I offered my life to the magician, if I told her to cut me in half so tonight I could come to you whole and ask for you back would you listen? For this dark alley love song, for the winter we heated our home from the steam...
by Jeanette LeBlanc | | Poetry
“I loved you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike: Scared… but reckless with no training wheels or elbow pads so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you. You see, I’m not really a love poet. But if I was I’d write about how I see your face in...
by Jeanette LeBlanc | | Poetry
“But I know she will anyway, so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix. Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks that chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rain boots are...
