Discretionary Love

My heart lay On the dinner table Prey in the open For you to feast upon Anticipation Rocketing through The cavern Where my heart Usually

Over 20 paces, I unpack the history, Force the meaningless to vanish, slag The tailings onto an invisible pile. Like a pirate flag, a skull-and-crossbones

I watch her pull out the small index card, slipped safely inside its protective sleeve, the typed words preserved on the surface, yet, beginning to

Without you, I shower twice as long. I press my cheek against smooth tile, a cool warmth in the gentle vibration of pipes so like

I’d fall in love with a pensive sort of woman, The kind who stops and stares at nothing in particular Then somehow smiles a grateful

You’ve seen all of her.  Garlands she weaves like dreams: soft, silky, you. Her, dancing in the wind  She absorbs the dampness of the earth 

On my last afternoon in Mustang, I met her for tea at her mother’s small guesthouse beneath the base of the mysterious sky caves. We

                 May you always know, my little one,                  you were

I believe in collisions, erratic crashing together. Splice split of atoms, deep degradation of DNA, those tender helix hugs over sex & fate. How the