‘Amor is etched with ecstasy’
I once told her, her hands
Holding unto my shoulder.
The light touch of a low, slow moon
Meant neither of us imagine being alone.
(from Life’s a Long Day)
They touch each other again:
Maybe exists a place of grace,
Maybe of meeting, of merger,
Where memories outlast lives,
Where sea and sky seal without seam.
(From Love Among the Ruins)
Select subtle spices from a cupboard shelf,
It’ll strip slowly layers from any covered self
For a rose is arroz is eros.
(From Nobody Knows the Truffles I’ve Seen)