It was so beautiful a scene
that I had to get close,
but I could get no closer
than the balcony rail.
"What's that?" I asked.
"The Palisades." you answered.
"Home." I thought,
"This river is the Hudson;
I live on the other side."
I turned around to absorb
you and the sun
into my skin.
I remembered
I remember you.
You taught me Ohm's law,
the secret to calculating power,
as I sat on your desk
in the display window
of the little shop
on Hudson Street.
You taught me to trim and coil cable,
focus and tune instruments,
square off shutters.
All things live and electric
All about ladders and illumination
I absorbed under your tutelage.
I remember 14 years ago.
I see your walls are white
hung with folk art.
I remember the wallpaper;
roses woven in the walls.
I see your hair is dark and
thinning.
I remember it was lighter and you were
trimmer.
I remember one night on 81st Street
I asked for shelter with the woven roses.
You were my best friend
my teacher
my text
my context
the pure and platonic.
Snow fell with your unseen tears
until the silence of your pain
tightened my chest and
I kissed you.
I took your despair in my mouth
tasted your salt for
the first time.
You said that I owed it to you.
I said, "This is not payment.
This is a gift.
This is my desire."
I spent that night
healing us both
purifying your skin
kissing the rose petals
that had bruised and fallen.
I remember
I called it love.
I feel you untangling my hair
removing it from your mouth.
I abide with you.
I find comfort in questions no longer asked
words unsaid,
their stillness
more poetic than
love songs.
I remember this position,
many lovers ago, and
the first time
it was you, and
the last time
it was you.
I remember forgiveness.
It lay with us,
imbedded
thorns of woven roses
stuck in my side.
You engender trust and respect.
I make honesty hold hands with discretion.
We water our beds with a constance
a passion
throwing roses on the comforter
loose,
unwoven.
I don't remember this mole
on your back, or the grey
in my hair.
"When did they get here?" I ask.
"They've grown with us." you say.
I call your name—desire.
In my archives
In my present
In my dreams
In my arms
In my thoughts
In the unsaid
In the unsung
you are with me.
You feed me.
I feed my muse.
You take me.
I take my time
memorizing this moment of you
wearing it with all the years of you.
I will press it in the album pages
paste it in the folds
with the albumen
You will leave pressed between my thighs.
I will call for this fragrance again.
You will call again,
come again.
You will hiss at me\(em\(em
"come for me
come for me
come again
come again
come again"
I will suckle your fingertips,
count the hairs on your belly,
catch your nipple in my teeth,
make you glisten with our oils
make you again
make you
you again.
I will leave thoughts unsaid, unasked.
exchange a kiss for each word
catch them in my mouth
feel them inside
feel you inside
feel you
you inside
inside my mouth.
You will call again in Jersey
come across the Hudson.
I will call for a bouquet of these again
these woven roses again
the attar of time and again.