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I remember your perfume and how its fragrance and your essence made me giddy, like fine champagne from a crystal flute, sparkling, how they made me act the fool and not care as long as I could see you, touch you, inhale you, feel you open yourself to me, but time passed, the chill crept in, and you and my love are shells of themselves since you...

Delicate muse with the knowing smile Please share precious moments with me for a while Would you tell me your name or perhaps even more While I fall in love deeply, forever, for sure Loveliest lady with rose-petal skin Could you open your heart and let this fool in I knew from a distance where my heart belongs To the delicate muse who inspires all...

I keep a spine that bends toward fairness, and every time I straighten it, the doorway shrinks. "your disrespect borders apathy" dictations of trouble scribbled into me. In truth, I notice the weight placed on backs already tired, the hours that leak past daylight, the pay that never learns to grow. So I’m released again— another quiet box for...

Life is harsh to the one who consents to be touched by it. Most withdraw early, erecting high, polished walls of indifference - I do not condemn them; their fortress serves them well. Yet what they gain in safety, they surrender in all else. Only later, when the mirror no longer flatters, does the fierce hunger begin to loosen its jaws. Then...

In Buddhism, there is a belief in the inevitability of suffering... which is conquered only through reincarnations, overcome only by attaining Nirvana. But I believe that love is a balm- it cannot undo pain but serves as a reminder that for every act of violence, there are others - of kindness, of charity and though many are...

In shadows cast by stone and fear, I find myself, the path unclear. A dilemma looms, a heavy weight, Where do I turn? What lies in fate? Shall I trust the echoes of my mind, The wisdom gathered, the truths I find? Or delve within, where silence dwells, Into the chambers, where my spirit swells? With every breath, a whisper calls, Inward...

However it cooled between us, let it begin again. Show me the room in you that I was welcome in again. Your shoulder shrugs my hand off like a coat in April, so I pocket both hands, fold all my wanting in again. I ration tenderness now like sugar in a war year, afraid to offer what will not be taken in again. We used to talk until the candle...