I was trying to adore what I thought
was real.
Sin is pivotal, in exchange for jeopardy,
much climatic wisdom.
I saw you with excellence, mint
breath, intense, not ordinary.
Soothing pain. Inordinate rain. An expected
child:
so desperate to prove passion, many
deceived, our trip to London.
Guatemalan beauty. Furnace
frustration. It feels right.
A soul is a problem.
A soul is immortal.
A soul becomes the measure.
Morning has passed. Birds are
silent. Aroused by a sighted savannah cat.
Moist weather, made into wilderness
weather, such a dry pond.
I pick up a paper, read a few
lines, sit down and sip; a
drink of garlic, a lost feeling,
Love with sincere eyes; never with a lie,
unimagined, a chihuahua in her
purse, a last line.
