I try other women’s tricks,
light candles, smile at my husband 
open a window to let the breeze
 
rhyme with Ravi Shankar’s strings.
 
I ignore the anger. I try to hold on to
love winding tight around my finger,
frozen in the single diamond,
even though the serrated frame digs,
a gold barb.
 
 
Put the ring away.
Remember his tattoo on your skin--
indigo sky, a low moon,
a stream curling down
that band aids won’t stanch?
 
I want to stay with this sudden
picture-perfect evening,
card games, popcorn, then
the blue flush of sleep
under a cloud of joined breath
long after video tapes end.
 
How do I shake off the shadows
that manacle me?
 
Remember        this is what
this is the way             this is how
 
One day I dream two sparrows show me
their home among maple branches.
 
A mysterious call to follow a web
carved by beaks and Fall’s adrenaline.
 
In the dusk of my dream
I see nests built and abandoned.
I speak of love
even as my romance lies
mangled.
 
Awakening, I speak love,
lifting a memory here,
a laugh there, an embrace.
Why seek delight?
Why hoard pleasure,
when flesh is peeled?
 
I peer deep into water.
Its light flows, unstoppable.
 
I meet the next wave,
my arms loving the weight
of water.

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