The moon

The moon talked to me last night
I couldn’t hear her voice well
She spoke of a laundromat
An empty street on a summer’s night
I read Baldwin in a tiny Japanese house
In a tiny bedroom
I smoked minted cigarettes on the balcony
And ate rice balls at 2 A.M.
The moon talked to me every night
Back then
Now I law below a flowered ceiling
The wine went to my head
And the moon speaks to me again
She speaks of laundromats
I guess
She forgot your name.


you and i

i sang for you between white trees
i whispered secrets to the snow
somewhere at the other end of the world
a Mountain still holds the secret of my love
buried under the ice
forever dipped in wonder
and nothingness


The Neon lights on the parking lot were blinking
And we were looking
At empty cars
From the clouds
From glass towers
You told me
You missed your mother as a child
You told me
You felt like you had no space

Your body
Empty space
Too much space


Like those empty cars

You told me secrets
In the clouds
In glass towers
Before you emptied
My heart

I stayed in the place
That you forgot about
Think of you
But always
The neon lights on the parking lot
They blink in the dark