Our Marriage, Made in Heaven

When you walk in,
I take your things
And keep them on the
Dining table

Sunday morning. A vague sense of myself, And a clear vision of you. You in the kitchen, I on the speakerphone. One image. One view. Your face, your private smile. One feeling. One longing. For that you I first saw. And...

It would be nice To touch those hands To press those fingers To take them in my hands To take them in my fingers To kiss them Feel the damp sweat of her palms on my face Would be nice To put my arm around her shoulders...

Tied to our younger dreams
Mistaking them to be our secrets
Glorifying them, and
Dramatically becoming weary

“I have a new shirt,” said the gypsy. She drew me closer, within reach of her pair of sure hands “White with Green accents in the collar and cuffs,” she smiled. I saw only her neck, her ear and...

Seeing you first, I rushed From first fill of the heart, To first tenderness of a poem Seeing me then, you stared With that diamond look of silence Black from your black eyes Shimmering from your shining face Blinding...