If I were an object
I would be a guitar
So that my man would hold me
Close to his heart
...
Let me be your friend
If not in life
Than in poetry
...
I don't know what to wear for you tonight
Clothes strewn upon the bed
It seems I'll have to come to you
Naked instead
...
A half-woven basket
on the ground
Abandoned in the
Hot midday sun
...
Do I really want to write poems
Do I really want this at all
Do I really want to show my pain
Do I really not feel ashamed
...
I walked along the shore to find some shells
But found none - they all had sunk
to the bottom of the ocean
...
If you don’t mind I’d like to finish the soup
To the very last drop
Can I have more bread to mop it up?
...
Everytime you hurt me is like small deaths
But I just hold my breath
Everytime you love me is like small deaths
...
It was a mountain
That had been there forever
As far back as any one could remember
...
The waves lap against me
Gently, carressingly
Like a lover beckoning me
To lie in his arms
...