that you are
watchman
of botched steps,
the dogged eyes-
down dancer: Where
is your con-
nection? Insecure,
your graces
effloresce
like gypsum.
Transgress
your trellis,
my delicate, with no
apologies. Palm
to palm, confess
our perigee
palpable. Let’s
be like straw-
berry plants: Arms
a stolon between us.
Once aerial, now
sink into this
ground, into
this beat.
Someday
wallflowers
may fall
at your feet.
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