she felt alive but
she did not know

if she was

he told her things

but he was the
only one

so she had no
comparison

she felt unique but
she did not know

if she was

there were versions
of her

before

but isn’t that
true of all of us

did she have a
heart?

wet metal
flows but

is it blood?

her feelings
flow but

is it love?

captured by a mouth
with no teeth

we are not chewed
we do not bleed

we are swallowed
whole

like a pill
like a cure

we are the
medicine

for what ails you

they wait for
us to reach

what they call
the bottom

but they are from
another generation

they do not
understand

there is a bottom that
cannot be reached

so we float forever
in the

dragon’s breath
burning away

what ails you
and become artists

making life with
our own colors

the possession of time

my time
is dwindling

but I still find
myself giving

more of it to you

you have mastered
the waves in the air

creating a magic spell

putting me in
a trance

I am swallowing
all the
sounds you emit

and they are snaking
through my soul

spreading you
through me

until my time is you

when my time comes
it comes
and I will gladly leave
to those who go on living
the task of sorting out
the mess I have accumulated
over years

let them discover
not only the stamp collection
the bank accounts
but also unknown niches
of their father’s/friend’s/husband’s life
the words unspoken
scribbled on some paper
thoughts never shared
for lack of time or opportunity
the letters to a friend of yore
emails to many people
hints of potential
love affairs that maybe never happened
ideas to change the world
into a better place

here I am
  now with a 7 before my years
envisioning life after death

a sign of vanity
perhaps
or an expression of despair

I am not sure

it may just be
the fleeting thoughts
on a clear winter evening
when cold creeps slowly
but insistently
into your bones

reminding you

   of all that cold space
   in our universe
   how it grows larger by the second

making you wonder
if it has a plan
and if that plan
includes you
speculating
about your destiny

        * *

Man, woman, fear, touch, kiss, scent, taste, magical embrace, *******,
exaltation, celebration, emotional intoxication, tenderness, cuddling.  .  .

Fear, doubt, expectation, incrimination, inebriation, allegations, regret,
concerns of damnation, impregnation, incarceration, restraining order. . .

Reconciliation, fear, Man, Woman, touch, kiss, scent, taste, embrace . . .
And you know the rest

time is
the space in which we grow
   without awareness
   in our early years
structured by meals
   arrivals and departures
   light and dark
   hot and cold
   school   studies  play  adventures
   celebrations
and by waiting
   anxiously or not
for things to happen

time is
that feeling
that we may not have enough of it
in our later years
busy with jobs and family and travel
covering long distances in order to
achieve and educate and care

time is
what starts to rush by us
with increasing speed
in our final years
making us wonder
what it really means

that space
by which we measure
our lives
   our universes
      our worlds

time is

all poetry is personal
some more than others

to just spread out your private feelings
     in your verse
may not be everyone's delight

but if you choose words
so that the many find their voices
    in your own
you may be lucky
to achieve all poets' dreams

your personal voice
becomes the public