Suitcase Suite# 13

The phone rung

the news 

of her demise.

with trembling 

limbs,

out of breath,

I saluted the 

end of an 

era.

The Queen is 

dead.

Long live

the 

Queen!

Suitcase Suite: #2

Round is the moon

but today is only

a thin sliver

hanging

in the darkness.

Playful is the moon,

here today,

gone 

in a few nights.

Winks to me

in its 

fullness.

Soothes me

with

its total absence.

It will come back

again

to play

to smile

to bathe

my naked skin

with

its silver light.

Poems from the Suitcase Suite: #1

Desire 

is like

a butterfly.

Comes suddenly,

touches lightly,

quickly

tickles our senses,

then flies away

having left the fuzz

of its iridescent wings

trapped 

in the folds

of our minds.