She dances

In the attic alone,

She dances with sexy heels.

Time does not exist,

Only this afternoon

Sun a slice of yellow ribbon bold 

Pinned to sky by thumb-tack gold.

Here, there are no fears, 

Just memories packed in dust.

If young, she dances,

She will do so when old.

In the attic alone,

She dances with sexy heels.

Portrait of self

Strips of cloth

Old metal in the sun 

Passages in winter

Paper I've written on.

The wood is worn 

Foundation from an old demolition 

Carved in time from my family's soul,

Something that was in my mind

I did not know.

There are many things to say

When the pants fit

To use an old shoe to stop a door.

Once, when I was young

I met Frida Kahlo;

Today, I saw her picture.

When everything speaks together.