Drifting around Kowloon,
seemed so ridiculous.
A bitterness turned
upside down,
with memories of love
peeling in plum rain.

In Sham Shui Po
you told me of a
new direction.
Of fingers glowing
through the night.
And the pleasures we
have been living.

At Quarry Bay, trying
to shelter from the storm-
just me and my shadow.
I told you of my thirst,
and an Englishman’s desire.

By Tsin Shui Wan,
and all those rich houses.
We talked about life
after the wars.
Of smooth hands touching,
and the magic of a
black haired woman.

And my soul migrated…
towards your dark eyes.

To me,
a room is a cell.
I am standing still,
a changing image
of the real.

In a far room,
another – walking
into that perfection.
Salt and wind
in her hair.
A scent, so deep
and ripe.

Between dream
and dream,
a starlit cave.
A tilt of the wind,
and we are face to face –
and skin to skin.

The sun slides down
through the the empty streets.
Too cold and dark to read the poets.
Inside the temples, barely a sound.
Only a single mantra left,
to battle the shade.
 
Easy then, to be pulled in
by a withered branch.
Lost in Autumn moonlight,
and almost out of life.
But still dark desires wrapped in leather.
 
My hope, a woman with the sun
inside her, and a bed for love.
In a place that says,
“People Wanted”.
Freaks and lovers, and all.
And kisses, that taste of
passion – and a sure beginning.

Along this road,
a solitary summer.
No one travels,
but you and me.
Shining and shining….
with Camus, Tai Chi,
the windmills and
magpies that dance
in the rain.
Some things last….

I am free again today,
free to reach into
the palm of your heart.
And swallow everything-
like flower-heads,
the sea and time.

You told me not to falter,
and sent me a lover’s breath –
flushed among strangers.
Shall we always be longing?
I think not…..

Quick or slow,
we have energy under the sky.
And eyes open for the
moon and morning dew.
On this day of freedom,
a land of dreams begins

Shhh, they’re all sleeping,
and we are alone
with the whirling cosmos.
Shining with a thousand
sources of colour,
the sea and the sky are ours.
It feels so good to be beyond
the great divide,
with no breath to part us.
Stretched out on your body,
we are not of this time.
Everything falls into you,
and I am drunk with long kisses.
How shall we make this place
tomorrow, and again…..

I have a place to sleep,
all through the night..
And love waiting
for my return..
To the window,
I go again…
and see the moon
gaze at the poet.
And you are
no longer a ghost,
and I no longer
wait for light.

I have known heat,
I have known cold.
This one flesh,
has listened to
your cries raised.
And felt your
drumline pulse.
So now, I interpret
the darkness.
What words should
I leave, so you are
happier than before –
and your pain
travels through me?

And when I returned,
I watched the way
the leaves fell.
Ordered, and they
took their time.
So, I said to myself
‘ I’m still in love with life,
leaping and falling’.
Still wanting your voice,
and your tenderness.
I knew then, a new
spring had arrived.
And began my climb
towards you.

Outside, such a fuss.
A thousand butterflies
each one a solitary spring.
As for me, the mirror
I stare into – shows the flowers
of the plum rain.
Growing in intricate patterns
and free to wander.
I keep looking…..
and I see we are two.
Am I her’s
or is she mine?
It no longer matters,
we are away from here.
And belong in this new time