My lips got lost on the way to the kiss - that's how drunk I was.
Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds' wings.
Be soulful. Be kind. Be in love.
Because of your love I have broken with my past
Flow down and down in always widening rings of being.
In your beauty, how to make poems.