Poems can getsleepless tooand becomethe loneliest thingin the universe.

moonlight disappears down the hillsmountains vanish into fogand i vanish into poetry.

And stay, my dearstay...forever, as my quiet song,in my lilac dawn.

This winter, there will be no voices, no glimpses, no arms.only the fabric of poetry, to keep me warm.

Tea is just an excuse.i am drinking this sunset, this evening.and you.

What's a rainy daywithout some deliciouscoffee-flavoured loneliness?

my dear,we are all made of water. it's okay to rage. sometimes it's okay to rest. to recede.

..i spill intothe kind of silenceonly Khalil Gibran would understand.

i will forever be collidingwith a billion unnamedundiscovered stars, each of uson our own orbital paths.