A Maiden

When I found your face on a pillow of leaves you had already erased it. A nest so heavy can stay in the heavens only by reversal. By this law the knees are laced with abandon. I said to the young man. If watching is the manufacturer, and I lose you what angel takes the place of a dowry or distance in this leaf action? Subject to like passions as we are my soul herself, myself a possession I could not mistake for the man (his language and Latin) yet we are “taken to” a love passage I had hardly noticed in the late talk of money The work of love and the work of art has no sleeping part Is a drop of light in a small silver socket, a rosy dime in a daylight tryst Is a keeper and no spender As seeing who is invisible: a kind of flaxen thing caught in stone I obeyed and read further “I am hemmed” Though my heart were a pear tree threaded with fire Lion you leapt through me like fineness in the boundary gene Conductor you knit me as isthmus     Can I touch it Night is going 200 miles an hr as usual     In this way we find we are suddenly altered If I were a day would you like me better     Where were you you who in a bath changed me How to be walking is a glorious porthole Must I insist on an absence more foolish and secret When your timber’s a forest I can’t see for the tree in my bed Gentle captive, it is a larger than murder we tender     Fond and afire my style and my anchor Master there’s a boat for no lesser completion than beauty’s sweetest dress when you look on me kind Who am I to stop this flowing Least of all that home mile Sinking in the real I dreamed there was a further island Perhaps (how I thought you) to salt that harness with pleasure Lovely hero where the lovely hero bounds an acre hidden between eros and its errors Finding a dozen darts beneath the skin of Watching the wire of a skinny flame No other lovely hero found the back behind her secret form of symmetry Her gleaming difference Her schoolish way in pretty understandings Said   Not done   Not said   Undone Wealthy sadness has a way of winning everyone This is the end of my body as you know it its superfluous penchant for love its poorer costume, its shiny disaster What is a maiden, boatswain, but a fiery lair and a teary citadel By the smallest shipwreck a daughter is laughter Yet equaled as in a fable this Gibraltar goes headlong in a just king’s love See how his hands are her mercy and measure her number and rescue O Perseus Pythagoras Pierre my Pierre What rules a body’s buried factions when laundered by morning When called by our names although we are invisible Sleeping I forget my animal When the animal comes I’m forgotten because of it How was it called in its own country crossing a street in order to come inside