An Anatomy of Love: To a Nurse

  An Anatomy of Love:

              To a Nurse

Dawn comes to where your solid throat and jaw

Lie cupped in fingers not distracted by

This wedding ring, and where your liquid eye

(Behind its frail, fringed lid) twitches in awe

Of nightmare scenes made worse by being vague.

You moan, and tremors from your voice pass through

The golden band, through palm and vein on to

My heart where love, as strong as quakes or plague,

Has lain in wait to meet these cruel dreams

And crush them, kill them with the fevered power

That lurks in lovers’ hands because they scour

The world with hope wherever sunrise gleams.

  Sleep on, my love, and let my skin and wrists

    Soak up and remedy the poisoned mists.

Phenomenal

A kiss is more than lips, spit, tongues, and teeth

Luxuriating in a bedroom’s heat,

Exploring to blue veins and nerves beneath

Conventions recognized by skin.  The beat—

Against the ribcage of each chest—of hearts

Notifying arteries and fate that

Devotion will surge forth, transforms our parts

(Played out before we met in scenes like flat

Hinterlands) and irrigates our lives with

Impunity that springs from love.  A kiss

Lifts nestles souls to where tomorrow’s myth

Laughs passionately at the past and this

Incites a joy, eloquent as if white

Phosphorescent blood filled our mouths at night.

Cranberries and Citrus Leaves

We left the lees and somewhat more of wine,

A red reminder in the bottle’s green,

Then turned to music, trying to refine

The aftermath of feasting to a scene

Far removed from food as the melodies

That spiced the room, ignoring body needs

(Since meat and drink had sated most of these).

Most?  No.  I see your lower lip.  It breeds

A red reminder of necessities

That can’t be bottled up—or satisfied.

We drink again, this time at mouths which seize

A meal of flesh and fluid long denied.

  Though staling wine sits on my counter still

    In green-fresh memories I retain the thrill.