"Poetry leads to the same place as all forms of eroticism
to the blending and fusion of separate objects.
It leads us to death, and through death to continuity.
Poetry is eternity; the sun matched with the sea."

Rimbaud

After the parting
They burnt the letters
Sacks and bags
Envelopes and folders
No one wanted to read
The significance inside.

I slid down the side
Of the velvetine covered bed
And sat amongst my treasures
On a brown wooden floor
If tears could break a vase
Mine would all be shattered.

Love Mary **

i was so naïve as to think,
i would grow old
with my high school sweet heart
and grandchildren .

i have accepted,
in this day and age..
I may
not live long.

i just pray,
my parents
don't have to mourn
their daughter.

You fare thee well only to those you wanna see again.
I hope to come back soon enough.
This is, good bye.