21 June, 2006


In a look, your emotions are
a glance
             direct and to
your point,
                   indulgent without ever
straying into that rare territory
of affection
                                little more than
an entrée
              into the realpolitik of
your reflections


or so it seems: from a certain
point of view this could all be
different; lengthwise to a shadow
the variations are as refined as
the light itself, falling slant-
wise against the redbrick
exterior, you leaning askance
catching after thin air.


We proceed by revelation, so that
even the erotic angle
             to my imagination
is softened — its so hard to keep up
             the surprise, after
             all consider
             this: the sun-scar
freckling your upper lip may never heal —
             a subtle nod to permanence
             and why not?


                      : then without the characteristic final flourish

texture is what I'm after

                      to inhabit that space left
behind by the other the second
                      chance is always the sweetest

I'm less interested in love than

in what it replaces.