I loved two gorgeous people. What would happen when they met each other?
Embers.They glow in my heartFanned into flame by memories of you.
I’ve taken a Sabbatical this week. I’m watching my granddaughters and to tell you the truth — not much else seems very important.
it is the softness tracing a lover’s lipsthe hungry wetness of a french kissa display of affection
I’m drunk for my old love.
for once some things about my memory are sharp, like citrus
along the slow-paced walkingof moments, days & nightsamong beds of hot seacold grass or far starsthe poet’s wounded voicehas sung endless…
On the fluffy red carpet was where she lay, curled in fetal position weeping passionately in painso much she could…
Wet surface tension,bubbles pet while they remainimpenetrable.
