I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

-on my mother's last months, or how
to do the final step without moving

I am not ready to go, she said.
I accepted doctor's verdict;
still, I ask: why me, why now, why?

     I hate these vultures, mother,
     that eat you from inside.
     I faintly see them through your skin,
     not even trying to hide.

I am not ready for resignation.
I am so angry about all this.
I am so angry with you.

     Your heart is cut in half
     and all we see
     is darkness:
     distrust, anger, fear.

I am not ready for all the answers
that wait for me on the other side.
Oh, let me have my questions please.

     Your brains are chopped to pieces.
     Little spans of time -
     that's all you keep in mind,
     and dismiss again with ease.

I am not ready to go.

     A premature Tibetan burial,
     a cruel death while still alive:
     witness of your own decay.
     So that's how Mother Nature will finally arrive?

I'll never be ready to go.

     Wait until she comes over the top,
     an almighty demon, an enemy from within.
     So that's our clean, sober, rational world:
     a cold, efficient killing machine?

I'll never be ready to go.

     I'll never be ready to go.

When you speak, the listener understands you. When you write, the reader understands themselves.

I am comfortable
I lay next to him and sense pleasure
without even touching him
I feel my lips curl into a smile
A feeling I thought I lost sight of
He views my naked body like a work of art
and enjoys the nicks and marks
the flaws
He places his warm hands on my inner thigh
my body rises
he creates a map with his kisses
leading to his favorite spot
he calls me queen
until I blossom
an explosion of color
my cheeks grow red and hot
he looks up, from below
slyly smiles
he makes his way up
feeling my anatomy
he reaches my lips
marking his territory
we sleep

Hello ,
Take my hand . . .
we will step out
onto the stars and run
across the Milky Way

We will swim
in the pools of
glistening light and
share to our heart's delight

We will catch comets . . .
putting them in our pockets
making wishes
along the way

We will visit the darkest moons
and give them light
from far across the galaxies

But the most heavenly light of all
will reside in your smile