let’s not go too far (she said
and i pretend to blot a cussword)
and she said with a cigarette
kiss let’s pack it in and gallivant
into a paragraph. a good beginning,
and a better ending —
she laughed with her cigarette lips
like mint julep and chutney.
so i move and she laugh and i
move again, sometimes bumping
into invisible brackets, leaning forwards
until there is god, and he said,
let’s not go too far while it’s still –
(then i stop, where you are she is
saying like she is trembling words. in
her arms) nothing is more fleeting
or alive than looking into her eyes,
these round ripe olives shining
with mirth, oiled dusky from incense,
as if to say, let’s not go too far lest
i bite and buck; rapturous fingers
on her pillow book, my unhewn alphabets
singing (every curve and crook
a quivering bone and sinew song.)
