To little girls
who have lost
their mothers,
somewhere in spring...

I say

dream.

Dream big,
ladies.

planets of tenderness
swim deep
in your embrace

circling,
ever circling,

those intricate
valleys of pale desire.


I say


Dream.

in muted
waves
of hushed
silence,
breathing deeply
this air
of unexpected.


(  your men will learn to dance in their own way. )


Dream big
and Be.



September is the time for weeping.