Is this love, the final sanctuary?
This abandoned house, vacant of shadows,
Eggshell walls begging for a painting,
The chipped frieze, perhaps, from Martha's Vineyard,
Thick marigold carpet aching for
The tender dance of feet,
Fireplace longing for a lingering glance,
Turquoise and crystal chandelier
In the bedroom
Waiting to finger our flushed faces.
I have seen this house before
But never dreamed I would touch its
Horse shoe-wreathed door.
All that time I was living with the man of steel
(And I don't mean Superman),
If you even call that living,
You were waiting alone in Rummy Park,
Warming your hands in your corduroy pockets,
X-out the calendar until the day
I would walk
Clean
Into this beautiful dream.
Will you be my winter love?
Will you stay through spring?
Will you tell the other angels goodbye
And thanks for everything?
I meant every breath of what I whispered
As I grabbed a fistful
Of your red faux anaconda shirt
And smelled your long chestnut hair
Beyond the pink Halloween moon
And the vigil of bronze angels from the fountain,
Straddling you on the bench,
Trying to be invisible
As we heard footsteps on the macadam,
My bumble bee dress
Propped over my erect nipples,
Crushed wings leaning sideways,
Antennae swaying in the frozen moment,
Lost in the uncontested surrender of your eyes,
Slayed by the innocence
Of the way you were biting
Your lower lip,
Coming without moving an inch.
Maybe you believe me now,
That I take kissing
Very seriously.