The moon tonight--
I even miss
her grumbling.

promise to fill in the blanks and the stains
on your teeth -
that reckless kind of make-believe.
We'd eat each other if we had to

frame that ***** ****** or shove
it in
an arbitrary pocket.
We'd eat each other if we had to

wear vital organs on the outside
or choose between burning witches and the books we hate.
We'd eat each other if we had to

dream more words to describe
states of mind
and the juice of a nectarine running down your chin.
We'd eat them if we had to.

The love of being is not enough
to keep you in my bed.
The love of beings is not enough to buy a ticket to Turkmenistan.

Unlike what I was
I am a thing of understanding
changing into this shape
and many others before
only to look back
       and laugh
everything is temporary
outside of yourself

1.

Each of us like you
has died once,
has passed through drift of wood-leaves,
cracked and bent
and tortured and unbent
in the winter-frost,
the burnt into gold points,
lighted afresh,
crisp amber, scales of gold-leaf,
gold turned and re-welded
in the sun;

each of us like you
has died once,
each of us has crossed an old wood-path
and found the winter-leaves
so golden in the sun-fire
that even the live wood-flowers
were dark.

2.

Not the gold on the temple-front
where you stand
is as gold as this,
not the gold that fastens your sandals,
nor thee gold reft
through your chiselled locks,
is as gold as this last year's leaf,
not all the gold hammered and wrought
and beaten
on your lover's face.
brow and bare breast
is as golden as this:

each of us like you
has died once,
each of us like you
stands apart, like you
fit to be worshipped.