My body
Your playground
Our delight

I do not speak
This truth often enough
I play with the words

I forget you need these words
They are your strong trees,
Sun and rain and soil

I  forget the tall strong branches
that shelter us...all

Are made of small things
that still need, sustenance
to grow.

I do not decline to speak this truth,
not from harshness or forgetfulness.

But simply because,
it is before me always
Like breath or hope
It is in the air and always deep within the essence of my being

I have hope that this my life
That these my better days
Sing the truth in alleuhja chorus's
For the world to see and dance to...

but yet we all need,
these truths whispered often into a waiting ear....

You my my oak,
You are my one true love,
My joy, my hope,
my friend.


Your body
My playground
Our delight.

"Talk to me
in poetry"
he said,
so I whispered
nothingness
through the quiet cold air
breathless
for he was my silent prayer
and I
just a pattern
in the chaos

In the grace of your undying presence
Voices, all those scattered voices in me unite
In the light of your abducting black eyes
My bleeding heart begins to write.
It is your beautiful restlessness
That tears me down and builds me up
It is you and your silence
That flows in me.
In the heat of your blazing soul
My veins have hardened into steel arrows
Which caress my heart to and fro
Until it wails like a haunting violin.