I like to reach a hand

into the unknown.

I like to rise early and predict

The patterns of the clouds.

I like to let the evening give

My skin a certain tenderness.

Sometimes a song I heard yesterday

Makes me dance, alone, on the grass.

Sometimes I fall in love

Because I want to cry.

Sometimes I cry because

I want to be loved.

I go around the world placing

beads of tears on flowers.

I look towards you like an explorer

Towards the horizon.

Great lands breathe life as they

Step through a door of fog.

My soul is a ship breathing

LIfe on open waters.

Written on December 10th, 2002

Once more, before I sleep,

I must write to you,

For though old words and old decisions

Gather dust, and sometimes

Furnish this corner or that corner,

The present comes through like

A hot, Hawaiian rain, and rearranges

My thoughts and my hopes.

All the words we’ve exchanged

Lie in a corner of your heart,

Gathering dust or burning black

And then disappearing into a dream;

I have burned through what is flammable

And still something remains–I remain,

Littered with ashes and old thoughts.

Having disappeared, like a stick of incense,

Today’s love has left us a thick scent

That filled the bedroom of our hearts

And, being too scared to leave through a window,

Hid in the curtains and the sheets.

Now my weariness leads me to my bed.

I am drawn to the sheets as though

You were waiting there for me:

The smoothness of your skin,

The lava of your passion,

The curve and the glitter of your body

Cooled by the night into obsidian.

Certain stars shape your nude geology.

Certain dreamers uproot your dreams,

And a certain tumult made from your

Eyes and your love a mineral,

Worn smooth by its creation–

A necklace or scent left

By a young lover’s careless passion.

Written on Sunday, May 4th, 2003