Matter in Search of Form

First cold hands, then warm you Soon sheets of macrolove Enveloped me and you Like a front that’s come in “You silly,” you said “It doesn’t die,” you said And now, fat raindrops Fall...

She told me this would happen That the time present would fly But the time past would stay. Hearts that pounded together Would break alone, and Divide in solitude, into twins. She said one twin will fly to her And the...

Black. Let me try this one, she said “…can I do this by my own?” Pushing him away, A self-deprecating Twist on her lip said “I look …y,” Nearly taking it off White. Color of his...

He asks me, "Do you remember?"
"The Peet's Coffee place?"
"The bell we heard at the train tracks?"
Almost reaching to hold my hand

I am remembering this. You and I very early days. Walking after dinner late night in Beijing. It rained earlier. I think some young people were walking in front of us. We both were avoiding puddles, and talking. I said...

You dismissed my words, remember? You kept track of me to swat at a merest chance And months later, You sent me a philosophical missive For that, here is an ordinary poem Read this and delight in your reflection...