Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.

I have woken up…quite sloshedfrom night-mingled rainsa little drugged, by mountain fogsI have been kidnappedfor years....by a mere kiss.

It is kind of ridiculous that a poet is expected to live in the real world.

I live there...Far above the song-filled clouds,where the dewdrops touch my skin so bareI live there.