I walked by myself to the market past ruins with broken bodies of stone, where even a fragment of a man could undo me. I bought herbs wrapped in paper. Light shone through the glass of our apartment. You had been showering, the smell of mint invaded the room, your hair was wet.
It comes from the earth. It is green with deceit. Sometimes what I love Shows up at three In the morning and Rushes in to turn me Upside down. Some- Times what I love just Doesn’t show up at all. It can hurt me if it Means to…because That’s what in love Means. What I love Understands itself As properly scarce. It knows I can’t need What I don’t go without. Some nights I hold My breath. I turn as in Go bad. When I die A man or a woman will Clean up the mess A body makes. They’ll Talk about gas prices And the current drought As they prepare the blue- Black cadaver that still, As the dead do, groans: I wanted what anyone With an ear wants— To be touched and Touched by a presence That has no hands.