constellations of thought
yours require a God--
a million stars caught in your eye--
exciting the brilliant Green
galvanizing your bouyant sockets;
they befriend each density of thought
with a feverish perk and nod
you try to hold on to the weathered language of love--
but it passes like a stranger on the subway
whose coat caught your leg
for just a moment--
your emotions escape you;
the Eternal Footman passes over your threshold
your infrequencies and indulgences are pardoned
you order her a raw martini
you get her a new pink photograph;
everyone in the world
holding hands with lowered heads and sleeveless--
and you embark on new facts and alignments
like jello to gums;
full-mouthed and plethoric
and for every full age she reaches
you take her to new latitudes and longetitudes,
distant places, and abandoned cathedrals
she wraps her hand around the back of your neck--
caressing and pulling at the navel
and you kiss with baited lips;
lost in the marriage curfew, criss-crossing heads;
with charity and indignation
its dark in the garden
empty, like the dream of you
charcoal patterns on an azure globe;
to the night you look small and outstreched
like the sea at Eve;
you hide under the birch trees
black silhouettes;
forever etched into threaded blades.