Silence;... Listen, my child, to the silence. an undulating silence. a silence that turns valleyes and echoes slippery, bends trees toward the ground.

New Heart
Like a snake, my heart
has shed its skin.
I hold it there in my hand,
full of honey and wounds.

The thoughts that nested
in your folds, where are they now ?
Where the roses that perfumed
both Jesus Christ and Satan ?

Poor wrapper that damped
my fantastical star,
parchment gray and mournful
of what I loved once but love no more !

I see fetal sciences in you,
mummified poems and bones
of my romantic secrets
and old innocence.

Shall I hang you on the wall
of my emotional museum,
beside my dark, chill,
sleeping irises of my evil ?

Or shall I spread you over the pines
---suffering book of my love---
so you can learn about the song
the nightingale offers the dawn ?