I had to squint my eyes to get the color
perfectly right. I hope to somehow bring
a patient love to the mysterious tailor
that fashions all things. In a fresh spring
I taste her skin, her lips: I cannot bring
myself to leave her. The yellow flowers
sit on the sides of the bayou and the rings
of chimes dance in my ears. How she lowers
herself above me is an occult power
that none can divine! I move in the room
as if it were her body. There's no answer
to a love like this: beyond the blooming
of each blue iris. I have begun to play
with her like the Sun plays with the day.
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