where are you now?
here I am under a full midwinter moon,
burning like a sunset,
thinking of how precious moss is,
so unique and crushable. they
reminded me of your eyes, your tender
eyes like a seaweed lasso and
how the fog and wind traces your
steps, binding you and your wild
marine ways. that primal light of winters
in Paris, everlasting nights when we
ignored all the telephone bells, even the
polices’.
o God it was wonderful
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much.