Sunday, July 16, 2006

May Swenson's Love Poems

Awoke this morning, got coffee, fed cat, fed bunny, washed dishes and now May Swenson. I can't let her go. But I will share.


Because I don't know you, I love you:
warm cheeks, full lips, rich smile,
dark irises that slide to the side;
thick lashes, thick hair, gleaming
teeth and eyes; your hand in greeting
warmer than mine, wider, in blue shirt,
rolled sleeves, in dark jeans belted-
I liked your robust shoulders, wide neck and
tipped-up chin. That glow is blood
under skin that's warm to begin with,
almost dusky, the red showing
through-of health, of youth- but more:
your open, welcome, I-could-hug-you look.
We met once or twice, exchanged smiles:
your lips, curl-cornered to my thin,
crooked grin; your easy, laughing eyes
to my sharp stare. Did it pierce you
there, my look of hunger, like a hook?
I wanted only a sniff, a tongue-tip's
taste, a moment's bath in your rare
warmth. That last night, trading
goodbyes, when we kissed-or you did, me-
my hand took your nape, plunged under
the thick spill of your hair. Then
I stepped into the dark, out of the light
of the party, the screen door's yellow
square sliding smaller and smaller behind
me. You've become a dream of ripe
raspberries, in summer country: deep, dark
red lips, clean, gleaming generous smile.
Who owns you? I don't know. I'll hide you
away in my dream file. Stay there. Don't
change. I don't know you-and had better
not. Because I don't know you, I love you.


and this, and then I've got to finish/begin my Sunday...


They are like flame and ice
the elemental You and Me
Will nothing then suffice
but they shall extinguished be?

I am locked in glacial pride
You burn with impetuous scorn
My prison is silence
Your arena is wrath
They are opposed as night and morn

If this is so how can it be
we sought each other long ago
and crept together hungrily?

You are quenched in my cold heart
as I dissolve in your core of fire
Then why do we crave each other's touch
magnetized by one desire?

When one forged his armor so
bright as ice and cold as slate
did he divine a spear so swift
and savage as to penetrate?

When one wrapped himself in flame
and emerged a glowing tool
did he dream of substances
irresistible and cool?

but in fusion
such raw alloys
instantly each the other destroys


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