Sipping tea, alone, 2 am
Unbelieving
That I could have loved before knowing
Your cool hands
The emerald flash of your eyes
Your voice
Song

First take an empty shell
And carve to your liking
The contours of muscles and veins
And the strong jaw
All threaded with fur,
Then stuff it with excelsior
And anoint it with sharp cologne,
Dress the body in the finest blues and grays,
Kiss the tired hands that work
So you don't have to--
And talk
Because silence is a valiant listener.

I hold a crystal in my hand
Absentmindedly turning it with the tips of my fingers
Watching the light from the window break amethyst into seven
Colors bounce off the walls
Into my hair and yours
Onto our cheeks
Our legs, our feet
And we are moved by the rhythm of color

Doesn't she look so becoming
With her red lips
And her red Keds?
Echoed the woman--
Or child--
In the mirror
Who lives neither in
Nor out
But she remembers me still.
She and I sat with you
Scarred our hands
Because we like our tea hot
And drank in solemn bliss.
I miss pouring my parents' money away.
When I was recalling
The summer you taught me how to waltz
I did all I could
To inscribe ciphers where our hearts should be
So now we sit
Trying to break love off the corner of a chocolate bar.
And in our want
We stray not from pallid lips,
Though cold,
For it took weeks to wash you out of my clothes.

my linens
are still
crisp--

I brewed a *** of tea this afternoon
Wearing only your T-shirt
And a pair of stockings
With every intention of putting on a dress
And no motivation to do it

The arms of feeling wrap around me:
Numerous and dulcet,
As Thursday breathes
And cobblestones remember