was it?

I got a special typewriter.It's just for you. For you and the snow, fallin' aroun
your hair
& eyes,
yours that are like an old movie star's ~
and I'll go sleep now
revelry of your eyes
& cloud meadows, flagships, steamers, over ocean
chuggin off, away ,, encountering you,
at last, our elbows, finger, , hands, locked around,
or knees deep in
grass cuddling our ways
heaping our moors
safe from harm' s road ~


was it

I was on the bus, then subway. She was there. And I was thinking of you. But the tears jumped out.Her skin glowed, across the ugly train's space. It was you I was thinking about. Wondering how you were. Over city and astral plane, like a river running through over the fields and around lust and poltiics. But wondering how the nights were. I wandered . It was great, I escaped the train. The sad or pitiful glances and faces, or graceless. Tired. Not that I was judgin' but everyone was tired.

I held a hand out to the sky, seeing yours
Over the winter's hut.
I pulled a cloud from the door
the sun came through
I knew I was returning
I had to know you are there

your consciousness helped create this.
yes this good feeling
A little bit of love around the city and its dying .
being born.
being reborn ~


Escape in the winter. Escape in eyes, _ have you gone off on a cloud?
has love left, or is it an L , maybe an L train taking you ...

but sadness won't last