LOVE POEM #9

Space so vast on all sides only opens up
when your girl's arms are linked around me,
let me be void of hurt,
the vented undersides of our love-
making clean as a throng of vented mushroom,
dark fissures breathing desperate
to make rings & wreaths of mica & moss,

aisles birch marchers toward ash calendar,
shallow roots in face of soil, leaf-terrain
pock-marked by naked heels, fern realms askew
of propane tanks quickly rusting, sandstone almost
thoroughly crumbled, fireplaces on cliff's edge
where you dropped a spotted bikini, allowed swivel
to take hold of shy belly, among newts & slugs
on inner curve of lichened fallen barks,
oaks repressed letting fall their cloak
of half-starved creatures,

to be salved of all sting, aisles
of breezy light rushing over white-haired
raspberries, gold-backed beetles all to land
against your bottom lip, ladyslippers
quaking in nubile emergence
of their fresh century,

Let bulbs break leaning upwards from
our proud foreheads, let a train of beds
left behind burn in the heat of computer
letters, then lilacs grown on rubbing alcohol
spill our glimpses on a grass that scrapes
our chests free of all afternoon cemetery
moon-rash.