• As I Tango

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    words are nothing
    in that moment when
    we look in each other’s eyes
    holdeach other’s hands
    for the first time

    you are the essence
    of my being

    the quantum substance
    of my soul

    i’m missing the voice
    of the fairy that whispers
    in my ear at night

    kind of deja vu
    nothing but an empty morn
    an unfinished poem

    morning sun–
    feeling the warmth of
    your smile

    midnight is
    when your winged-voice brings me
    to Parnassus

    moonless night–
    i am the ninth person
    in a square dance

    here’s to the music
    and to effing tomorrow
    aubade to the wine

    midnight sky–
    back into my noosphere
    nothing here but space

    be calm, my heart
    it is just another storm
    passing by

    a summer zephyr
    here i am longing to hear
    the sound of your voice

    listening to
    the tick-tocks of the clock
    and the passing hours

    and i am learning
    how to walk again
    in the purple rain

    if you be a storm
    a gale who’ll keep me awake
    then come as you are

    a pulsar
    a phoenix-born lullaby
    a poem

    you are the song
    that will unsing the lyrics
    of my lips

    you are my smile
    the sweet delight of
    the autumn moon

    night sky–
    a billion reason
    to hear your voice

    i desire your lips
    on the rim of
    my tea cup

    symphony–
    the sound of your name
    in half notes

    when i hear you voice
    i’m just a word away from
    your constellation

    don’t mind my mood swing
    i’m just a bard or a brat
    with tantric tantrums

    this pain
    this torment
    mine alone

    come O Morpheus
    come O drowsy-eyed god
    let us drink that nepenthe

    a quantum poem
    giving birth to a billion
    stars and galaxies

    in my noosphere
    and parallel continuum

    poemless night–
    i just kicked the moon
    out of its orbit

    and this cup of coffee
    should have been glass of wine

    this wretched heart of mine
    and a thousand and one poems
    would they not mean a thing?

    midnight booze–
    celebrating alone
    the death of poesie

    for who can fight well
    the battles of my own heart
    not even the gods

    how i wish to hear
    the lyrics of your laughter
    ere i close my eyes

    when i hear your voice
    i’m just a breath away from
    your constellation

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