inside myself
there is a sea where
the moon
is as beautiful
as instant death

climbing stars
have lost their footing
no one can say
what will be lost
in yesterday’s boundless sea

life is a story
filled with typographical errors
neither to be believed
nor denied

software, hardware,
analysis, reason,
astrology, The Book of Changes–all
are useless for knowing
how our lives are arranged–
where we will board the ship,
where we will disembark–

useless for determining
whether those red marks we bear
are scars or birthmarks

love is a letter with no words
containing a whole lifetime
of things thought but never said
sealed in a bottle
bobbing in the sea inside myself

a love poem locked away
in faith that one day
the person for whom it is meant
will read it in my eyes