Under the hot desert moon, The Cat and I told Of memories, dancing Recklessly Till we were Neither Cat nor person, But breathlessly one, Shining naked In our souls.
I live in Phoenix under a white hot sun and wander time and space. I see poems whole. Images come to me in rhythm and color with line break. Previously I lived on Long Island near the ocean, where the mist and fog and thick grey air create a separate reality.
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