I cannot dream of losing myself

so I will answer with a gesture

even if I have to repeat it over

and over again. Dearest echo, please return

to me, my Valentine boomerang circling

in the desert night air. I love myself now

because together, and more than once,

we have challenged the language of self.

Although I have thought of nothing new today,

I will love the horse whose mane flows freely

in the wind, unsaddled, and without lucky horse shoe.

Your vision has walked with me loosely on the beaches

of Thessaloniki, the winding streets of Venice,

and the early morning light of Prague.

We think together, we drink together, we will sink

together. Reach out for that ornate wooden box

for within it is my love letter.