Jehovah
Leaning over, brushing pool cloth with collarbone,
feet shoulder widthed.
Air cotton-heated, close
THE SUN deep in the pavement.
Tonight, dressed like Marlene D
white shirt, tucked
thin fabric,
nipples looooooose and long, kissing the green,
kissing green and
brown oak with embossed edges.
A boy, lingering—
taking in all your loveliness
under the table lights.
Lots of time,
lots of time, spent
trying to know god
the witnessing years,
timber-ed kingdom hall
on a half-acre outside Launceston
rows of chairs
rows of chairs
rows of chairs:
coral walls, pea green cushions &
yellowed pine.
Dirt-spiked wind
in summer.
And you sat, palms on lap
like two sleeping dogs.
Then pushed out,
made again somewhere else.
Here you go:
whispering to that boy now
asking his age,
he is much younger,
but you are still beautiful.
There, unprized
in eyes that look of unreachability,
of open suture and
possibility.