the balcony; and it was dark
and i had stepped back at that moment
the dream was ripe.
lost since then
fallen out and strangers in the mist
and in the midst of a thousand different,
with hidden eyes, and magnets
lost? and blotted out..
crooked lines and a laugh or two
dipped in coffee or milk
or a few surface notes;chords
once in seven months and weeks i don't count
some sentences in the poetry book
and the ants somewhere disturbing
of an unrecalled existence
and of a time
i stepped back and you vanished.