- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Words Haunted by Death
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For sixty years you were there
to feed my smiles and touch my tears.
Now you're gone and I'm still here,
Picasso blue alone without you.
Our paintings were never polite,
cubistic and cobblestoned
with the fright of a suicidal edge
hid by curtains in the dead of night.
But you were there, always there
no matter what, no matter where.
The mailbox is empty, the line is cut,
the voice of a friend is gone.
All that remains is the scent of perfume
that cannot be held in the hand.
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