Words don’t come easy.
Sometimes he plays me,
Weak-kneed and panting
In the midnight lights –
Steel string song,
Fingers on the neck,
The body.
But even though I remember
What she said about forgetting,
Sometimes the bitter
Spoils the sweet.
And I must find an elsewhere
To endure it.

So I hope you don’t mind, love,
This settling of the heart.
But the turning wheel
Has yet to bring me the courage
To set the thing aflame.
So let me relish delusions.
Here there is no danger of exposure.
Looking through glass
Into gray mirrors,
The unknown friend could never guess it.

And, half-numb with the selfsame,
He will never feel it.
So make it an invocation –
The blessed body temple
Charting the depths,
The fallow and the furrow,
Germinating holy thought-seeds
Joining the three –
We must find pleasure
Where we will.


About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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