i wrote out my dreams with a pen
and placed them in a cup
i looked into the stars and then
with pride i held it up

i toasted to the moon above
and branches of the trees
i then said my goodbye to love
and threw them in the breeze

and maybe, maybe there's a day
when one might pass you by
but dream, only a dream can stay
only in dreams we fly

Do you consider
                                     Me
A Victory? Ah!
My Dear.
This trophy rests too heavy on the shelf,
Weighty in the mind.

She was angel guarding the gates of Hell,
a beauty born in the wrong
generation.
Her dreams touch the sky
She sings
lullabies,
Yet Hell
remains
Hell.

my boys first and then the poems
I told her quietly and true

why the taperecorder?
just because I was new?

Magic is indeed a Gathering
the many and the few

the happy photos of us all together
too painful now to view

I glide my fingers over
The scab I didn’t mean to make
And try to convince myself
Not to make any more

In a drop of you, I lost an ocean of me.