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

Beloveds, now we know that we know
Without notice, our dear love can
In the instant that Michael is go
Though we are many, each of us is
Only when we confess our confusion

When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.
Offering me, as to a child, an att

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

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

Pretty women wonder where my secre
I’m not cute or built to suit a fa
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,

Give me your hand
Make room for me
to lead and follow
you
beyond this rage of poetry.

We die,
Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke
Stranglers to our outstretched nec
Stranglers, who neither care nor
care to know that

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

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of lonelines
until love leaves its high holy te
and comes into our sight