HOW

With heavy BREATHING as (faithfully) her lownecked
throat -- something in how her 19th centry dress little
topples and expands. Emily Dickinson?

One small foot squared /mired in silk\ wrinkling lost
asking me:  how we are here now \ i slowly within
sun-drenched ponderous arms bedecked /time travels --
whose white thick wrist deliver prompoty
to a deep lap of enormous mindless HEART.

How i never believe i now but always in "how"
and how she tells me i need no other lover :
i won't leave her now/ how i believe her now \
asking me how i believe in her love -- i say
"i don't know oh i don't know"  how?

something in the way she knows.  And all i have
to do is think of her -- it's what she shows
me.  I believe in "how."

What I believe in how.

:: 10.24.2021 ::