slip my heart peace, i beg of you –
draw the karman line between us...

a plucked tongue, uprooted and transplanted in
foreign lands before the seed was sown...

swirl the moonlight in your wine glass,
and tell me if it’s as bitter as it looks...

i must confess,
a part of the heart lives in the ear...

i am bereft of truth;
wholly-wedded to the thought...

you ask, what foods i crave?
you...

i ask too much of you –
the body, and the ego are both wounded...

i know nothing of home –
it’s true, i wrongly thought of your clavicles...

as your voice spills into the room,
waking the silence from its gentle...

cosmic retribution / karma.
foolish to think stealing from boundless seas...

you.
you have a way about you...

oh sweet child, do you still pluck a
dandelion to adorn every bouquet...