Classic Poem

— FOR A POET

Like the stars of the sky many stars,
Like the sand of the sea much sand,
That which shines is that which shines
That which is lonely is that which is lonely
But until I can stride into your star-shining flesh
And sing " I shine "
I must wait.
Until your flesh becomes an enormous night floating above the desert
Becomes sand
Becomes wind blowing over the sand's flesh
I must rehearse methods for loving my own falsity.
Until my own falsity is no longer visible.