She put her hair up,
All night I imagined its fall,
Breathlessly waiting.

She rose to greet me,
Flowing hair, sparkle eyes spoke,
Poem before words.

She took me to bed  .  .  .
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost,
  .  .  .  In her satin folds.

Sun of early spring,
Joyous— we walk on water,
Minnows under ice.

Her eyes blinding me,
Milky way of her body,
  .  .  .  There is a heaven.

Blissful time kissing  .  .  .
My bare thighs sink into hers,
  .  .  .  Running sands so quick.

In the park we walk  .  .  .
Flocks of white birds taking flight,
  .  .  .  Two hearts light as air.

As olive or grape  .  .  .
So shed, paired souls are threshed,
  .  .  .  Out of their bodies.

Wet welling from earth  .  .  .
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******,
  .  .  .  I plung into her.


We are lost at sea  .  .  .
In moonless night our soft cries,
Curled waves drowning us.


Above her in bed  .  .  .
Little breaths lifting our bodies,
Eyes, fingers, dreaming.


Her green eyes are set,
Jewels from sargasso seas,
My ghost ship is wrecked.


Her long hair tangles  .  .  .
No struggle in rising— then,
  .  .  .  We are rapt in bed.

Each day I fill baths  .  .  .
So short my time with songbirds,
  .  .  .  Morning states of grace.