how it melts
			


			melts in your mouth
			melts in your hand
			too

			
			melts like massage oil
			melts into your back
			in candlelight

			
			melts like a sugar cube
			on the tongue

			
			the way ice thins
			on a march lake

			
			the way winter
			melts into spring

			
			hand into hand
			on the long walk home

			
			melts as bodies melt
			as heat slides into heat

			
			drips down thighs like rain
			before the rainbow comes

			
			melts as you melt
			when you let it go
			and it goes

			
			melts like indecision
			into the moment of
			perfect knowing

			
			like unwashed memories
			into the forgiveness
			of sleep

			
			like dreams into
			the harsh light of
			singular awakening

			
			melts like a snowball
			in hell


			
			
			
			
			
			     bottling the wind
			

     
			
			     after an orgasm she moves so slightly,
			     almost imperceptably, as though swaying
			     to the rhythm of some soft inner breeze;
			     lying in the attitude of a burn victim,
			     knees apart, head thrust back,
			     forearms angling up from the sheets;
			     hands lightly clenched as though holding
			     on to something, keeping some light
			     or fragile thing within as long as
			     she can before it blows away.


			
			
			
			
			     dream on waking
			

    
			
			     there is a movie star
			     leaning over the bed
			     clothed only in long
			     black hair curling
			     like water rushing
			     around smooth rocks
			     a quizzical dream face
			     dark eyes that
			     shine out blinking
			     lashes that breeze
			     toward me in waves
			     brown breasts bend
			     over me forever and
			     as she rises she rises
			     to goddess height
			     above your futon
			     the black triangle
			     of eternal mystery
			     my eyes follow on a
			     tight string tied
			     to the body that floats
			     toward the door and
			     out and as the
			     smell of coffee browns
			     in my head I wonder
			     if you saw her but then
			     you walk in


			
			
			
			
			    ritual of cats in the street
			

    
			
			    we are better at visits
			    than we are at togetherness
			    we require anticipation
			    as we benefit from waiting
			    and fantasy is always better
			    as in waking dreams in which
			    we widen the door to the bedroom
			    we build a dutch window
			    that bellies out into the yard
			    so I can sit there and smoke
			    in my cross ventilation
			    watching squirrels in the trees
			    while you read your philosophy
			    and eat black olives from
			    an antique oval dish
			    and when I come to you it will
			    be like the parakeet singing
			    to the burbling morning coffeepot
			    and I will leave as thoughts leave
			    listening from sidewalk to summer
			    rain on the leaves


			
			
			
			  Like trains into tunnels
			

  
			
			
			       Yeah I saw the whole thing,
			  that knife slid into him
			  like he was loose dirt.
			       Naw I dunno, just a knife.
			       I dunno, long enough I guess.

			
			       They was having
			  some kinda bitch about somethin
			  over there by the pinball machine.
			       He called her a damn whore, I
			  remember that real clear,

			
			  and she yeah she
			  stuck him good, like he was a
			  balloon...you shoulda seen
			  his face pop, like one second
			  he was in it and the next

			
			  he was gone.
			       Seemed like he deserved it though:
			  like he'd been top dog for so long
			  she didn't have no way out but to cut him;
			  and he was so tough and

			
			  shitty grinning, and then
			  gaffed like a fish,
			  and I ain't surprised he's dead.
			       Knife slid right easy
			  through that silk shirt,

			
			  right between the ribs so perfect,
			  the old tongue into the slot,
			  and he was just so much
			  meat and she was gone.
			       I dunno she was...

			
			  well kinda average lookin:
			  about so tall, brown hair, that's all.
			       I never seen them before.
			       Hey, honest, but
			  he sure bought it fast,

			
			  it coulda been worse for him;
			  she knew what she was doin,
			  you can tell.
			       Yeah I saw the whole thing. Like he was
			  loose dirt and been turned over.

			
			       No I didn't see her face;
			  I'da liked that but
			  I was watchin his at least.
			       You know even when you covered him up
			  he still looked surprised.