Beloved, again

As I look into you I feel there is nothing good

Inside me that does not come from there.

And then blatant half-truths exult from your eyes

And coil round my waist like ivy to a maiden wall.

You pull me too high for the kite I could never be,

Yarning your precious silk around such frail limbs.

I rest my eyes on this passionate curiosity instead-

Weaving vowels on the languid paper

As you pass unobservant of my insane strength.

All craving, moisten nights belong to us

Yet, at dawn we are but disenchanted strangers

Of distant smiles and hurried, balanced steps

And I am left to wonder, barren.