as if imitating being rolled

on an ocean floor and

the cessation of breath were simply a

                 joyride

 

a center developing yellow, an obedient lover

                 in sharp masada, a shanty,

                 an island of all night postures,

 

                  inside a tiki-torch glow, the muted color attributed to

 

                  the binding rooms

 

sweet arcana: :lovebird: : hanging rope

 

where porchlights swing, water faintly against glass           remorse begging

                  intrusions and invitations (her variants)

                                                            and skin breaks open over

 

and over and over against that tip,

 

                    as immediate as parting