Your hands easy
weight, teasing the bees
hived in my hair, your smile at th
slope of my cheek. On the
occasion, you press

When I think about myself,
I almost laugh myself to death,
My life has been one great big jok
A dance that’s walked
A song that’s spoke,

Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk
One paints the beginning
of a certain end.
The other, the end of a

I’ve got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry

Beloved,
In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips
Your Hands
Your Laughter brave

There is no warning rattle at the
nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer
Safe in the dark prison, I know t
light slides over
the fingered work of a toothless

You drink a bitter draught.
I sip the tears your eyes fight to
A cup of lees, of henbane steeped
Your breast is hot,
Your anger black and cold,

The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
Under a dead blue sky on a distant

Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip
Where bones idle under years of fa
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation

We, this people, on a small and lo
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way o
To a destination where all signs t
It is possible and imperative that