Stories
One Wheel
What I Could Hear
Winter Story
Sick with the Sun

Poems
What to Say
Home
Jealousy
Wake
Hiking a Mountain...
North for Winter
When I love you...
Induction
Poem
Dusk
Seven Hours
The Morning After
Learning to Drive
Place of White Plains
Green on Blue...
The First Time...
How I Am
For hours...
Enter June dusk...
Inside

Hiking a Mountain near Home

I wish I had a mouth
to hold my voice but
there are no words in a kiss:

itís so normal
I come apart,
the entirety of me
dividing the volumeó

Can I be this couple
falling in love; we breathe air
from the cliff and look down
on our valley.

Sometimes I think this mountain is a whale
and we live inside his stomach.

Where do these words exist?
Iíve fallen from your arms into
the color of trees; the sound of the mountain
has stopped. I find life

in the vacancy of touch
where the loneliness in you is me.
There is nothing to comprehendó

this is the closest I come from you.


Previous Page - Next Page