The collection Naked in Cold Space, written in summer 2008. These poems have never been re-worked, but rather I’ve chosen to leave them exactly as I first wrote them in a small notebook, in various cafes and restaurants, in the first several months after my life as I knew it was destroyed.
Number OneWhat were my wrappings when I had them — star-threads, moonrays, and such things, and you. Beautiful robes my ugly soul wore, made of gentle-seeing eyes, of trust and patience, and that ineffable gold; the knowledge that you are the axis of love. So I was wrapped, so I was blessed, and I was moved to go on. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Number Two You’re gone. My ugly soul is naked like my name.