I lit a candle to offer vows
but thoughtlessly held the flame near my lips
where the very first word from my mouth blew it out,
the word "I" -- as in "I," "I," "I' -- so I started
again, the candle relit to be held
this time before my heart.
Love-athletes on a trampoline
their anger lofts them high again.
They're fond, of course, yet each a fool
batters down the other's will.
What can be made of such brutal practice?
Their one forbidden word is *yes*.
With them it's neither touch nor go.
Their reaching hands take hold of shadow.
"Summer Forest on Blood-Drunk Days."
"Milk-Blue Shadow, Chocolate Feet."
"Luscious White Enormous Sleep."
"Blossoms on a Mussed Bridal Bed."
"Happenings, Happenings, Over and Over!"
"She Marries the Sky in Her Sunly Gown."
"She Dreams a Diamond's Dream."