~MARY LINXWEILER~

FEARLESS

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Clouds the shade
of antique lace swim
by and I remember
the tone of memory, gone

from sight now.  Stars
permeate a poetic
experience, two languages
unite, and I remember

the flavor of desire, lilac
like lingerie you wanted
to touch in the store
but you refrained—scared

by others' notions—wrong
and right.  It's not that simple.
Didn't anyone ever tell
you that?  Devotion comes

in many colors.  Adoration
shines like when I smile
at moments when I think
I have touched you.  See,

you don't remember,
do you?  Scared of me
still?  Enter the gazebo, lean
your head out and look up.
 
 

© by Mary Linxweiler