got lost in your confusion you misspelled my name last time you wrote me can't hear you anymore behind these stained glass windows you look like a painting from the past of Dali so misconfigured and almost delayed, deranged.
you stand so still expecting me to read you from behind this mirror where you can't see me but i see you but you know i am here with my lighted candles and i want to come down and take you far away but i am i was too high on clouds to reach you.
so you walked away and still i see your shadows walking me making in my head that you're coming towards me but really you're already gone and i want you even more now that i'm sleeping.
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).