in this between-time
after the day-work
before a partying-night
outside in the city-street
I window-stand
people pass

a rich-day collecting
the determination of things
that future-spell so
I am replete with possibility
conclusions safely-stored
filed-finally I fill
with you-thoughts

board-pinned your photo
to turn to but I daren’t
eyes-shut instead . . .
and there you are
only more so as this portrait
- an august-glorious day
garden-full with butterflies
the sea-sound distant-sounding
only more so -
this portrait expands
to show all your sudden-self

a pause in twilight-termoil
I grapple – should I
let this brown-inked pen
flow inscribe tell and paper-paint
knowing full-well you favour words
that do not spell out what’s in store
when the bedroom door
closes-shut on poets’ licence?

so being careful not to press
passion’s path beyond the bounds
of touching-tender kissing-close
when once I would barely-break-step
to think of not exposing such
geographies of gracefulness
unclothed revealed to savour-so
the breath-shortening rise
the eye-closing slow-release:

please know to write so
brought you close
when you were not . . .

my dear-joy
I still my pen
hold thoughts in check
trance-like knowing now
(and conscious now)
of  other ways
to tell-out spell-out
characters desire-dense
ambiguity-rich
flavoured-full
beyond-beyondness