Mist
Published in Parameter
Wrap it round you; in the rain, protection
will be yours and later admiration
will burn to envy in the white salons
from the bottom of teacups while galleons
of Spain lie underwater well-preserved.
In this land of rewards, I have deserved
you. Let us step out into autumn. Loss
tends you with cool, attentive hands. Press
your concealment upon me as we slip
between passers-by like air. No one would stop
us, anyway. We are torn from a book
and numbered by our pages. You look
concerned and almost shiver. You were this dream
and so, my love, I touch you as you seem.
