(1) Some speak of the lack
that they feel in our romance
and see not much more.
(2) The sun falls behind
the mountains of his shoulders,
yet stays the warm glow.
(3) The fall of his arm
on his beloved's shoulder
is heavy with ease.
(4) His eyes glow like night
that is pierced by crossing stars.
He needs no blue moon.
(5) Hand in hand in heart
the two lie distinct as one
and love against hate.
(6) The touch of his lips
is the song he suppresses
and waltz he declines.
(7) The hands of my love
can be white churning waters
that calm to a bay.
(8) His chest a spare wood
that I roam at my pleasure
and rest in the clear.
(9) My love is no sun
nor a summer's day nor flea.
He is what he is.
(10) When I write of him
who has filled my heart's quill up,
mere words fail to speak.
1-10 to 1-14, 1999
