trod lightly to avoid
disturbing leaves fallen
and feeding filamental roots
of fungus.
these puffing spores,
teasing the nose to sneeze
a spawning mushroom love.
wherewithal to breed,
hypothecary of suspension
neither dead nor alive, hung
in the balance, forests outweighed.
you soaked my love in your hand
kerchief, adjusted outdoor lipstick
in the mirror forever ready in the sacred
pouch of bag.
you like to love in the woods, on the beach,
in that castle and on the bus
carrying us from Paris.
thrilling the thought of capture,
a sudden lens, natural rapture,
fecundity of trees spilling carefree nuts,
of hairy bee legs moving the future,
whole species in a shuddering buzz.
hairs in my nasal passage protrude,
never have money, the
necromancer said, reading this face,
portraiture of fortune.
but in this new forest
on bedded lichen and moss
scratching and soothing, intermittent
I saw you, naked as morning joy.