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
Now that's love!
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