i wanted to put love on you
but
it is not the shape
of love
i want
shifting like a protean dream
love comes maybe,
shifting eternally
over the contours of itself
the thing, though,
that i want to see
beyond skin or shape
or the forms of words
put on the thing--
beauty, beauty
with your tender petal-mouth,
your deepsea eyes,
dearest woman,
i will not bandage you up
and call it love.
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