shhh…no words anymore. no smooth white clouds
anymore. no intoxication or men’s company anymore.
my soul lives in air and i can’t bear the scent anymore.
in the dark, only he knows the river stones like fishermen,
the small curves of my waist that tremble, all soul
a flame. 

shhh…no one, no one knows anymore
the maddening truth - that audacity of ecotones. in spring
times the tendril of passions can overwhelm any brownstone
like ivy. the sea enters and pulls back all the unnecessary
flowers. they make me stop and ponder about
courage.