a prayer:

false--
i wish you didn't
gather
'round me so.

what
is this
mask
i'm wearing?

why
is this
mask
i'm wearing?

i
want to remember,
she
wants to
bury
all that was.


please,
let her
lace
her fingers
into mine:

to find a
new
strength
that does not
lie
behind barriers;

they say these
journeys
are harder
on your own.

sunshine

in my window at
three
(ante-meridiem); i never know if she'll
stay
or wander hopelessly on to some
other
stranger's bedside;
i never know if she'll find
solace
in the dark shadows of some
foreigner's
room, safer from these
city lights
beside a
country belle,
guarded from this
concrete
cage by a force
greater
than my own--none-
the less
she always
always
returns,
at three a.m.,
to pay me
homage,
perhaps:
ma chercheuse éternelle
de la face cachée
de la lune.