Her poetry doesn't want to give me up
And I get the blame for it...

If both my eyes should glaze away
And my reality should sever...

Everyday that I saw her,
I fell more and more in love...

Different psychiatrists
Who depend on strangers...

The woman I love eyes me all over
As a kind of rainy day activity...

There are two things that coexist,
They are called love and hate...

I think of you
When my pen stirs in the night...

Shingles drift toward waiting gutters
In their quiet quest for escape...

There was a time I saw Love's end
As though it had some far away reality...

If you came along
To be with me...

Amid the siege of eyes catching eyes
And volleys of kisses being assailed...

While the native drums grow louder,
Pleasant memories...