LOVE POEM TO THE CONCEALED

1

I will wait until you are about to leave
to tell you I'm in love with you. Not
to make you stay. But I believe
that moment on your doorstep
when you gently respond "I know"
and kiss (not too near
my lips) goodbye
or look startled and slam
the door and
keep on packing (not letting me help you
carry the boxes
this time) will become
the tallest column
of pure winter air
on earth. Seen from space
that pillar of cleanliness,
untouched by sex
and lover's arguments,
sealed by just one
declaration, will be felt
moving from zone to zone
like a painting of a tornado,
a sculpture of a hurricane,
in your memory. For your mind
is my only country.
The gods will say
from the battered moons of Mars
these states are not united,
but something holy,
free and unrequited
is moving over them
like a queen without
a king or pawns to conquer.