writers block productions

MORE LOVE POEMS

New Year's Eve 1993
Who
taught me to
dance? My
body moves without
thinking, and the
only thing I'm
drinking is a
toast to your
eyes. The
dance is a
fairy tale I never
thought I would be
living and the
gift you are
giving in the
love on your
face is itself a
tight
embrace. The
band speaks the
language of our
hearts without
translation as the
best year of our
lives mists into
memory. Meanwhile
in the cloth-bound volume of our
dreams we
turn another
page.

-jwh-

While you are in Jersey

The
bed when you are
gone is
cruel as a
desert, it
comforts like
stone, it is
nothing but
dust in the bottom of the
well. Your

voice on the
phone is like
bottled
water. I am

counting
minutes like
pennies in a
jar. 

-jwh-