and i guess i'm just asking,
if all the things you said to yourself, appeared on your body,
would you still be beautiful?

BUT NOBODY TOLD ME THE FUNERAL NEVER ENDS.

IT'S BEEN ELEVEN YEARS NOW, AND THE CASKET'S STILL LOWERING.

*"LEAVE ME HERE MOM. LEAVE ME HERE. I'M DEAD TOO."

For Nat Lipstadt

In response to Nat's deeply moving poem that included me, I now dedicate this 2007 poem to Nat, who I am sure, knows exactly what it means.

               
She smiled as she
set her lips into
most agreeable motion -
her larynx flexing to
modulate the passing air.

The sequenced air waves
shook my auric drums
and journeyed to my soul.

Out of my reservoir
of ritual response
my lower face
turned a congenial curve.

Two puffs of air
pulsed my vocal folds,
were filtered
by my tongue and lips
and formed a sonic pattern
she was sure to know,

“Thank you.”

December, 2007

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Super moon, freshly minted gold coin
tossed high up, to what mortals blindly lose
their hearts to,wanting to hold on open palms,
each one claiming, pointing up "This beauty is all mine"

You are the one who plates silver to my sweet sins
when she and I,roll on the open balcony in a frenzy uncontained
til it's waves  lash higher and higher,spill out and get placid
for that time I forget the play of dark matter and other secrets
of cosmos, still to be brought to light, by billion droller projects.
Let hydrogen colliders work day and night on it,
it doesn't interest me at this time of full moon joy
let me wallow in your illusion for now, it's enchantment pure
to me a  lover, it speaks,words  more real,than the forces hidden.