Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,--
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

Every somnambulist must find alone, a thorny path-
through, encircling hedges of dark night and gloom;
between dreams and reality's abyss, mine has a beacon,
*with my eyes wide shut, I walk toYou, my only flame!

Vladik Vladik
by the sea
I crossed the bridge
and felt your breeze
but people walk
imposingly
and keep their face
a mystery
because of this
I only see
a sadness in
the city streets
Vladik Vladik
by the sea
it got too cold
I had to leave

I often wake up shivering
under the thin excuse
of a tapestry
I use as a bed sheet.
My naked body curls
its bones in a weak
attempt to make heat
for itself
by itself.
As my sleepy brains
struggle to freeze the week,
to make the morning gape.
Eventually I lift myself
and stumble over to the
roaring ac unit
and turn its knobs
At ease!
only to wake up within the hour
smothered in my own sweat,
my feeble solitary sheet
now a cheese cloth
and once again I stumble
over to the *******
and turn its knobs over again.
I play this game often
here in my simple apartment
in the midst of monsoons
and torrential brain storms.
To keep score would drive
me mad- make a poor sport
out of me.
Nobody ever wins anyways.
it's worse when I am in my bed
and not alone,
but so is another game
I find myself playing.
Too often I play a game
I like to call  "just one more cigarette"
-this game has a definite loser
and it's always definitely me.
This game keeps score without me:
the first one to 20 loses.