From November 2008:
it happens in the mind
long before
you
there were thoughts of you
waiting
I thought of
your firm,
round places
that,
begging for kisses,
have awaited my touch
chemistry from the start
that
will die within us
our minds make love
in ways
they can’t
understand
and my dark places
are filled with
thoughts of you
the light places
weep
from your absence
and wait
always wait
till first we meet
again.
Raw, Naked Art 
I like the cap. And I like the guy wearing the cap.
How many times we love in life.
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Thank you. Very few of my poems are about my life. I just write them – fiction is fiction. Only the form varies.
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You of all people know you can’t divorce yourself from the deep inspiration that from where these poems come. Apparently sometimes they allude to real things and real people without you knowing at the time. Fiction is indeed fiction, but then life is a fiction being constantly created by us all. So such pieces are designed, and destined to trigger deep seated emotions that resonate outward in unimaginable ways. There is no such thing as being merely poetic for poetry’s sake, it all means something to someone, and it might just make a difference for what it’s worth, otherwise you wouldn’t have written it, much less published it. Everything happens at the right time and with good reason.
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