Oh, my lover's lips,
staring at my world like
champagne and the coming of lavender.
Expressively precise in color
exactly empty of effort,
imperfect, even prayerfully undeserving when alone.
yet when together,
slowly rising towards my poet kisses like supple, drowsy twin suns,
ready to play waterway winds
of springs' delicate
explanation.









Your work is always exceptional.

11 old applause
