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

How I Am

Iím the type who opens the grass
looking for the red dirt I bathe in. Who is my lover?
I love only the taste of things, the feel
of a body beneath my mouth. To another plane I send
the greenest apples and that jelly
of a flower dying into fruitólove
dies into me. What are seeds? Cages
with windows. Iím between the atoms
of the stars.


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