Like someone in love,

so the song sings,

almost as if by itself,

like love that in someone is...

the like and the love all over again.

Like I love so many things about you,

like my arms ... about you,

like someone in fog (another word for love, perhaps),

the steam off a hot tub under a cool, gray overcast day,

the way you step down and settle into the water,

the quiet before (or after)

whatever we did (or were about to do)

like a couple someones in love.

Like the shape of your canvas,

your caress at rest

when the best is yet to

come into my arms again,

like someone in love.

Another song begins with a note or

a word (“words of love...the words I long to hear”)

a phrase without subject or verb,

only a preposition (on, above, about)

a pre-position, (on, above, or under)

your spell, a proposition of form,

reshaping the possibilities of an impossible dream,

another song to sing like someone in love.

And there is no wasteland between

your hips and breasts, a valley of shadows descends

into a forest of more songs for the singing,

more fruit for the harvest hanging on the lower limbs,

the smooth branches that invite curious kisses

and the tempting touch of fingertips that feel their way

through the darkness of the canyon,

bringing sight to the blind and music to the soul,

and even with my eyes closed, the best view is always you,

with thirty-nine roses, a poem, and a kiss,

just like someone in love.

May 27, 2017