(a love letter)

Two tireless trunks.
A feast! A pair of new drums.
One modern sonnet.
Five white haiku, or
A bone china place setting.
My hardworking love.
—
You are the two walls
That support my secret house—
My deep fire pit, the
Warm place on my hearth
That knows how to swaddle
And nurture: to give.
—
Your taut ink, your porcelain,
Keeping me from caving in.

Perfectly round, an anti pupil
roving slowly across the sky—
I can feel you rising
if I stare long enough.

Your gravity is attractive.
Loose. Only a whisper from this
distance, a potential lover
making secret eye contact

across the room.
You think I am not aware
of you—oh but darling,
darling! how wrong you are.

You are all I can think of
here at this dark party.
A quarter century is how long
I have been looking at you.

And all that time, while
I have been dancing, dancing
for you, from afar, from within—
you have been watching me too.