Nadia Brown Poems

Best Poem of Nadia Brown

So, This Is Love?
I've gotten use to broken things,
even now to hear rage slice through doors
portrays a semblance of normalcy.
The brunt of your fist pelting my spine
is the only fixture in this home.

And you say this is love?

Sorry does not undo the scars
perverting my features,
will not restore . . .
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There Were No Bells
She said there were no bells,
only her clam hands
and fretful feet rattled in the eve.
The sirens would not go off
nor did her knees faint
from the tie-dye of bliss.
She felt no quakes,
no bumble bees,
no panic sharks reeling
in the pint of her belly.
Not once did her shoelace hair . . .
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