A reserved Bulgarian
woman stares back...

My heart needs to be a song,
beating from a dry moon gone hollow...

The night unbraids
my bones...

Untie your feet
from the thorny shackles...

She loved him like
throwing knives...

Hoping the sky would make me up...
have me last...

I have known rain and weathered hands
stuck in time from a war in land...

i don't remember the last
time i broke down, crying over...

Nature's velvet crush
will shed illicit beauty...

I am frightened for the ones
who leap onto faith but don't...

~
I yearn to hate the night, to grimace...

Before you and I were stirred
into vanishing trickles of taste...