Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream:
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

Lust is a word
full of emptiness
and passion
and pain
Lust is a place
full of smiles
and broken hearts
and red tears
Lust is a song
full of movement
and rythm
and voice
Lust is you
that’s full of me
and we create art
that kills love

Some sort of magic happens
when we find each other
in the ocean of the solitude.
I silently drown in your mouth
while the dust disappear in the wind,
and my voice becomes a hidden echo
that rumbles in the empty spaces of your soul.
Sometimes at night, I mischievously smile
cause I find you misteriously enchanted
like an unexplored galaxy
like a distant star
like an impossible mountain.
You are that parallel reality I can’t live without,
that secret life I’ll never share
and that happy ending I’ll never have.

You are
two different you
in the morning
and at night
I love the one
you are at night
because
that’s the you
who loves me