lake, nowhere

hard to let it be
i love the lure of language

along your lips
-- Stephen Cain, Torontology

skyline pure of sky; the water, lakes
a nervous lap

my shining errant knight in glitter,
lip-gloss

between envy & the moon, financial districts
, cn tower blooms

in light-show nocturnes; you woke,
discovered stomach cramps & this,

basaltic rock you mention, standing
the circle stain

quick glances down one side

three hundred passing passing ships,
sails like silver, flags

a threadbare ease, a base of trees
at merlot’s end

no one is an island; you are,

*

relief of schooners, slips, come out
of freshwater narrows

to come, a taste of things

a tempest in a teapot, seasons pool
at shallow

late August, trees tint autumn
, leaves along

your mouth carves circles
out patio glass, caress

of bitemarks, hollow

beneath the railing, west swoon of shadows
lower limbs

, sunbathers stretch
certain only of themselves