Secular Love Poem (reprise)

Someone turns to face you.
It is dark and our ideas—love, grace, fashion—
Will not endure.

Our addictions—sex, lamb, blue refrigerator magnets—
Will continue unabated. The rain is colder today.

I burned a stick of incense, shook your thought
From my head, strangled your photograph
In the most gentle way. I shivered, naked.

Sinecure. Sanitary. Sundress. Sacred.
You’re funny with numbers.

When you’re wet, you make singing noises
From every place on your salmon-colored body.
It could be whale-call. Could be fire.

Fifty more days of this. Rain. Catcalls. Sounds
Like lust, like cream. Like that man over there.

Smoking your cigarettes. Wearing your best summer
Skirts. I have tried to call. I swear I’m sweltering.

Fancy. I think you’re fancy. We don’t have names
For what you really are. What we really think.
The lights go out at ten pm. I hope you’re home.