Live as many lives as you can.

there are some poems
that we leave behind
some that leave us behind

while some just live
silently
in the heart

crumble, sometimes
dwindle
disappear
die

and are reborn
when you smile again.

you were
and always will be

that first ever touch
to have fertilized
the ground
beneath my life’s trees

that first ever rose
to have fragranced
the rest of my memories.

and the afterglow...
of your gaze...is the only
sweater that I need.

poetry
melts my bones.
enters my blood.

and changes
its composition.

Tell me..how do you stand there?
filling the doorway....of my life.