I have known nights, never-ending, spent far from the lines of her waist.

I have known loneliness, like a blade clenched between lungs gasping for air

when the usual flair of endurance has waned from life’s positive reign—

yes, I have known pain. But from this pain, by will and worth, I chose to stay

and chose not to blame this transitory sense or that immutable aim.

I chose to seize that light of power so that I might see again

those abiding glimpses that anchor me to the one undying nature.

And because I wish to see again past the tiring mists of moods and time,

sometimes I choose to sail away; I sit by the lampshade and spin a toy globe

which then I stop at some random spot, fingers stretched and eyes closed.

And of that random spot, because I wish to see again, I seem to know

each unknown name, its weight and source of light.

It’s in this bright, because I wish to see again, that the outline

of her hand crosses once more with the hand mine.

There, a new and very special kind of melancholy beacons within

my open palm, spreading its proud and golden wings toward

yet another insignificant everywhere, already too significant for me.

(From Poems. 2016-2018)