365 Poems/220 Day End (Rough First Draft)
I try to dip my head under the light,
so my face is shadowed, and you can’t
see how weathered the day has made me.
My head wants light and lovemaking,
but my body is telling me to disappear
deep into a poem. But I kiss you anyway,
on your first new breath, and you smile
that smile that…oh…
And when our sweat has cooled, you
are more than a strong tongue. Our
laughter bubbles when the gas light
goes out for the seventh time in a row.
Eventually, we eat hot, wild rabbit using
only our fingers, then I watch you tend
to the tea, rounding up the cups like a flock.