[1] Everyone is dancing, the beat travels along old routes of silken blood to cities with strange and familiar names.

My heart is in Samarkand and my body dances in Tashkent and the roads have vanished in the dust storms our legs have kicked up!

The foolish poet however continues to seek words for his poems, his constellations his unknown planets!

[2] The night is being poured from wine bottles, an endless dark.

From this blanket of stars show me how to seive the particles of desire for you?

[3] Ache Ache! This is the color of my blood. Ache splits worlds within. The broders are parabolas of exile. How to cross this, which I canot name? Desire Desire!

[4] This evening of love how has it arrived? Its directions remain unknown. Perhaps the drum, the clapping hands or your flashing eyes will know!