As the evening stretches beyond skyscrapers  sunset cracks windows and voices,  midnight lies as a would-be lover  counting her footsteps across Brooklyn Bridge  to an anonymous apartment, where she imagines  waking to her lipstick on his coffee cup     Washing machine skies spin skeins of colour  red always bleeds into the blue and JFK...

From living,  to memory,  to dust,  to forgotten.    My beloved, so many pictures, so pretty your grave, so sadly forgotten.    From heat of blushes, to the cold of death, to existing in memory only, to forgotten dust in the wind. 

Creaking sound of rusted latch  sleeping alone again, naturally,  only secrets would let her in    I should promise you   my last kiss of summer,  for winter’s kismet kites are grounded  strung by ice lifeguards   rescue is the warmth between thighs    Pearls for breasts, silver skin limbs  opening bones as...

sadness answers me from deep withina lone sacred voice...melancholyblue infused with lonelinesslooking for something beautiful through the chaosquiet and pure with the fascination of a childbut with wisdom of the learnedgently she instructs me urging me forwardsometimes she is...

It’s quiet nowHereWhere waters lap among the reedsI can hear myself thinkAnd a hundred impossible flights of fancy are possibleHere at the laverBefore the temple of God- the fire pops –And smoke stirred by a vagrant breezeAscends like incenseBearing...