When I cry,
My life murmurs in red.
*
In the recital there are some mistakes.
We all make mud of our music sometimes.
*
His hair is silvered like song,
And he seizes me in my depths.
When I cry,
My life murmurs in red.
*
In the recital there are some mistakes.
We all make mud of our music sometimes.
*
His hair is silvered like song,
And he seizes me in my depths.
My hair is easy to please –
Satiated with soft careless skin
And uncivil eyes.
The ships on the river
Corrected correction.
Love goes with you.
Your hands glaze me with pride,
a good disease.
Your teeth write me in anger -
Your kiss a knife in another dialect.
In the river,
The dead wash themselves among the stones.
Your pretty lips alight on my breasts
Your hand is on my belly,
taking my soul away.
Between the rippling river reeds,
A timeless photograph
of vice and virtue.
I am on the left. This was taken in college.