Come closer darling,
Into the midnight,
Honey come home,
There's far too much at stake.
Cause the moon
It rests
On the breast of the sky.
Forever enchanting us with its presence,
As it glows incessantly,
It represents our love,
Powerful
and forever present,
Despite the time of day,
Or the month,
Or the year.
Trust me love,
4:55 a.m.
Tuesday morning shuffle
to the boathouse
because it’s too early
for a bus
but not too late
for a mother to be of use
before he’s grown & gone
love in
an early morning drive
water me
I may go dry
without sin
how do I find
a person to lose
my ice with
the first time we touch
is a banquet for hands
within an egg
the light is beautiful
as a bruise
and we could go play
at another door
little home
the eyeprints of love
all too big
a rose and a wren
entered in
my memorandum book
under wonderful but plain
a different kind
of presence
alone together
we promise to speak
with our hands
in the style of the classical Tamil
Like a knot
of yellownecked caterpillars
on the underside of a witch hazel leaf
responding to the approach of danger
by arching their soft bodies
& freezing into a clump
of sudden thorns,
hoping to ward off the caress
of a wasp’s antennae:
that’s what happens
to me whenever
she smiles.
rose I bled for
to have and to press
I promised a story
in one red letter
but this I am
in pain how to do
without a kiss to pierce me
is there no quiet
seeing her off
over the kiss the light
of the bone moon
I owe her dinner
and a play
the many little
witty expressions
that call to her bear
with a dish of myself
I intend to learn the sound
all sounds sing
where you and I inherit a ruin
where half a kiss would undo me
music without music
to show the world a simpler way
like the old pot must know
a better supper
I am alone as the clock
or an orange in translation
mean as a little sun
blue at the difficulty of love
do I take this world to be my wife
today in her flower suit
a body in love is so much
well-oiled uncertainty
its secret motions calling up
a sea of my own