Some days my hands shake like my heart when I first unbuttoned your bra, the same way it shakes when I pull the zipper on your ribcage. My hands, hold your heart & quake like a geriatric trapped in a nursing home, with knowledge on how to find Atlantis or his family. Your heart cannot be outstretched any further, take it before the weight topples … Continue reading Scott Sherman Poems, Day 5: “Tremble”