To my love,
remember me as I am.
Not spirals and ribbons
slipping through fingers.
But naked and laughing
throw your head back and sing,
cook and dance.
My head rests on your chest
or yours on my stomach.
Shrouded in warmth.
Not like this;
tangled and wounded,
broken like ice on the floor.
But cool hands cupping your face,
knotting your hair.
Remember us breathing together;
in one breath.
Lying as one.
Learn to walk again, darling,
but remember me as I am,
with you.
With love.

Dear love, for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream;
It was a theme
For reason, much too strong for fantasy,
Therefore thou wak'd'st me wisely; yet
My dream thou brok'st not, but continued'st it.
Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths, and fables histories;
Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best,
Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest.

As lightning, or a taper's light,
Thine eyes, and not thy noise wak'd me;
Yet I thought thee
(For thou lovest truth) an angel, at first sight;
But when I saw thou sawest my heart,
And knew'st my thoughts, beyond an angel's art,
When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when
Excess of joy would wake me, and cam'st then,
I must confess, it could not choose but be
Profane, to think thee any thing but thee.

Coming and staying show'd thee, thee,
But rising makes me doubt, that now
Thou art not thou.
That love is weak where fear's as strong as he;
'Tis not all spirit, pure and brave,
If mixture it of fear, shame, honour have;
Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me;
Thou cam'st to kindle, goest to come; then I
Will dream that hope again, but else would die.

a beetle crossing
the leaf-covered earth
contour by contour

tender warmth of the mornig
I lay on a stone wall
while below me
smaller creatures continue
their shorter existence
in double time

Being lonely
He beats the gong again
The guard of kabiya.

        * kabiya: cabin in which kabi (fire to frighten noxious animals like stags and wild boars) is made in autumn.

I inhale.
Brisk air fills my lungs.
Awakens my body.
Slowly it's turning from winter to spring,
Kissing my skin with tingly lips.
Inside my mind I think of you.
Nowhere and everywhere all at once.
Yearning to be found.
Only connected to me through this February air.
Unfortunately, I am here. You aren't.