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Songs (22)
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This is not a poem
Things without names are the ghosts of things
There is no color in an empty place
It is late on a spring day
Eden Is just another name for need
Imagine a table
There can be no argument in an empty place
A stuccoed house
There can be no sound in empty air
Who is the diva who sings Dame Vida?
I bite into a peach
Someone strung a wire over town
Our mouths tiny o's of desire
In the nursery the Madonna suckles her babe
The architect declares the building
A mind filled with empty places is a mind filled
The first letter was the first letter
The texture of the bloom
Shut down the bells
A leaf falls. Then another
You walk in the shade of a lane
Like a breath of fresh air
Listen on Apple Music
Provided courtesy of Apple Music.