18 September 2010
original poem included background image
tibetan sixties
hungry for the breath of breathed smoke
and daylight between my eyes
I wheezed your name
it was enough
from the Everest of my desire
a lama blew loudly
and
unnecessarily
because you came you smiled you condescended you
spoke ironically
anyway
and the last curling whisp from your cigarette
mattered as much
as its ash did