. . .

as you enter seclusion
i bury a piece on the GO board
in incense.


--the muse mail

"it was written decades ago,
merely delivered just now."

born lost

'Will nobody
explain what it is like
to be born lost?'

a nobody,
i will.

it is to search
through the smoke,
meeting unrecognizable eyes
in the mirror.

sharing the glance--
we wink.

arriving from nowhere,
our hands are full of maps
on fire.

we read the fragility
written in ash

. . .