another love song

That is not it at all.
That is not what I meant at all.
I drop the shawl.  Turn
from the window, my water
eyes to yours, and speak, tell you
what you missed, my arms,
downed, lamplit, reaching around,
palms cradling the bald velvet
of your head. I will roll
my silence toward your dark
question, a shining ball.
I am Lady Lazarus, come back
from the dead to tell you:
there are no words at all
in the mermaid song
you’ve strummed in me,
how you give me fins
in a black sea, become
shore to my drowning.
Come, walk near the waves.
I will roll your trousers,
kiss your legs, save you.

With love to Eliot and Plath


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