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This is a new poem and a work in progress . . .

Love-Tied

I gather your dirty clothes
not for washing but
to smell the lingering bundle
of old cologne
then I touch an empty
wine bottle fondle the
stem of the glass and
remember it was red Italian
I take a sip of water from
your glass skull mug you
got at Treasure Island
I think of death

your voice sounded hollow
to me tonight but you
were calling from California
I remind myself in your
quiet train room my
love lies tied to the little metal tracks
you need clean underwear
and tomorrow
maybe
maybe you'll be coming back

Natalie Fuhr

Dear Natalie,

Your everyday details say great things.

Love, Lizzytysh

Lizzie,

You always have charitable comments about my poetry. Thank you so much.

It's so strange being on-line sometimes. You're Lizzie, a name, but a person, too. You live in Florida. Will you be going to New York in 2004? Perhaps we will meet then.

Take care,
Natalie

Dear Natalie,
Yes, I know what you mean about this on-line phenomena that one-dimensionalizes us. Quite bizarre in its own way. Yes, I will be going to New York in 2004, so we will meet and claim our third dimensions . I've always liked your poetry very much.
~Lizzytysh

Very humourous in the details. And yet touching on one of the greatest mysterious of life, love for imperfect beings.