Christine Austin Cole Biography

She tumbled from the sky that night
White washed and too familiar
Holding cotton candy dreams
In her hand
...

I left a poem on the side of the highway last night.

With every exhale, words, like litter, escaped me
To flee-float out and about and along,
...

To a claustrophobic, the confessional
was penance enough, she thought -
an upended coffin filled with rotting sins
and little more.
...

I may be Art
in the way that he was, she was
in the way that you,
most certainly, are –
...

“To be honest, ” she said as if
lying would be nothing new,
“I seriously thought about
not telling you.”
...