poetry collection

October cups my face in gentle hands. sunlight filters through me, casting my heart on the pavement like stained glass. i know i‘m going to be alright.

when will there be compassion?

i want it

memory is a rope around the neck

instead of dreaming, i now love. and while loving, i create what i afterwards recognize as a dream.

it is at dusk that the most interesting things occur, for that is when simple differences fade away. i could live in everlasting dusk.

we‘ll dream of a longer summer. but this is the one we have; i lay my sunburnt head on your table: this is the time we have.

i wish you all the aloneness you hunger for. that big kitchen table where you sit laughing with friends. i see it happening.

it has been raining all night. summer rain. the liveliness of it keeps me awake. I am so happy to have lived.

i‘m chasing myself (i have been for years)

and still, on the days i want to be alive the sunlight leaves me stunned like a kiss

… its boulevards of peach and vanilla stucco dissolve in the mists of autumn … in the sugar syrup of nostalgia, acquiring the elaboration of artifice, i am inventing an imaginary city as i go along.

October, crisp, misty, golden October, when the light is sweet and heavy.

October is my empire

i never call your name, but you are in me like the song in the nightingale‘s throat even when it‘s not singing.

they say nothing lasts forever but they‘re just scared it will last longer than they can love it.

my darling, today i love you so sweetly, so joyfully — you don‘t know how… I dreamt of you last night — as if I was playing the piano and you were turning the pages for me.