‘Poems’

For Shirin

Lustrous fingertips of crystalline grace,

Slope down to her tranquil forehead –

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Maelstrom

He finds pleasure in scattering

The feelings, disintegrating

The thought.

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Poetry

I combine the diaphanous white of a fingernail,

With the curve of a chin.

I collect what is grave, what is cardinal,

For every poem is a kiss,

Squatting on the paper,

Placing a bed to rest

Near the comprehensible

Like my look that rests

On a midget fold of your shirt,

Near your shoulder.