letter of consent

i don't miss you

you were not convenient

the mess you made of all my underpants,
skirts, jeans,

turning me into a wave
itself smashing on a cliff reaching up and up

a mindless pleasure thing.


there is more to me than just
writhing  twisting  against your thing
violent shaking like i wanted to get set free

but backing back up, on it hard again.
and you were laughing

like it wasn't wrong.


next time just take all of it,
hold it up and ram it in, don't save it
nor stop yourself,

just take your pleasure
just make me
just make me
take your pleasure.



i don't need you--i don't
miss you.

you were inconvenient.  i was in order, my mind
inviolate.  now i  am
anything
you want

anything
you want

oh god
anything

open question

looking at you   thinking

nothing particular

but   the grainy world

splitting around your features

sun   or gray   around you,

gold lady
with the wave eyes


later i was

thinking of cubism,

that those fragments

captive   of art--
transcendentally intellectual,
i'd thought--

maybe rather depict

the gasping   mindless sense   of love?

observation

oh rose, upon your lips i spoke
the hour, as if day broke
into a flower, the cup
of your name from my mouth
to yours, the south-
ward rose-head turning
into sunset, reddened
as if ending
where it began, and i too
drawn in down to your sweet bud
and dropping fullblown petal.

compressed into the light of your
circumference, rose in your mystery,
your thick scent and nodding bloom
at every stage, sheaves red,
what they were, what
they would always be.

the harvest of you not scent,
not tight bud, dropped petal, nor sere leaf
but smell and taste
as if you washed up upon
the radiant-in-all-colors shore
of yourself,
and i to witness it,

dawn-sunset
rose
upon which the dew forms.