Homage to The Ballad
She was soft and sentence.
My own sleeping speech awoke her.
There used to be plush velvet items where
now appears lifelike finger explosives.
I sip from tin coffee cups
the flavor of her past mouth.I take comfort in and make love to
Tomaz Salamun’s mother beyond
the graveyard gates. I hope Tomaz
does not follow nor regret
her exposure in ghostly patterns
upon my flesh. We share this space
and perhaps Tomaz would sigh.I am in love for the next time in my life.