Breeze hitting maple leaves in spring, freckles plastered in redheads rushing, the shadow light bent by a bus zooming, the salient forehead of a Sudanese woman, the brown-eyed stupor of a barrio girl as she looses her balloon, the ohmmmm psychoanalysts utter. I love scuba diving at sunset in Turk & Caicos just as sea horses turn night-still, Rauchenberg silk screens, the brush of a Kline, the liminal moment in Asberry's poems. I love my lousy back stroke, falling while skiing and night swimming in sky-lit pools. Love NY museums and visit art galleries when I am traveling - which is a lot. Love rap, post-modern poetry, Brel's bon chansons and the minimalism of Beckettl/Pinter. Love 2 dance but have 2 left foot and if I try to coordinate they grow spastic as if I was having a seizure. Not crazy about musicals/clubbing. I prefer dinner talk that bends your knees, your face littered in wonder as we interrupt each other. Swiss schooled/ivy plumed, my biggest regret is not taking the time to be a surf bum.

Picture this: I walk into a room, there you are, I look to this and that, what breaths through the pore, eyes that in a stare deliver all in one gasp, your presence a still point. You look back, to this and that, something happens then something else then the next thing I know the answer is out; yes, no, maybe, definitely. Please be soft, be kind, be real, rudeness/games are for the unhappy.