radiant in the heat
of the moment the
pleasant pressure of her
atmosphere & aware
the lateness of the
hour & every other
measure she weighs
against the center
waits watches as
the imbalance slips
silent by yes &
on beyond doubts
& settles into
she sighs,
yes, oh
yes, not
yet, but
next morning
the mind & hands
prepare the body,
make it clean & dizzy,
obsessed & soft, almost,
not quite;
she takes
the intricate &
extreme liberties
minimally necessary
& chooses among them as if
they were gifts, giddy & ready
& the last lingering fretful
practical ethical logical
momentum against this
collides violently with
the urgency which
weaves away
scattering excuses like
you woudn’t believe

she tosses a dazzling
glance backwards just as
your eyes lose her
know you
never knew her
& nothing further

~me (09.23.2003)

written sometime during the past three years (as evidenced by the coffeebean paper it was written on, my only clue) and revised a few nights ago in what turned out to be an entirely different direction.

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