Love Thumbing

We are steady
silencing the thorns
have the snowflake-bouquet—tight-gripping
readying our fingers
for forever mines
reaching kissers dip in

R e a d y,  s e t,  g o . . .
they have incidental music
for marching my heart
for measuring a man’s heart
for dragging a fleece-bristling train
across the floor’s frozen grin

You are wet whistling
silencing the thrills
have the damp-palm—handkerchief-wiping
setting my valley
with a river to sail
scoring a much wider win

We know kneeling, ready our set
have the thumbing, go and get
stars have open arms, drive a spike
until heaven is on the house, hitch and hike
past the deceitful spin of Mars, tell a tale
the cold vow of Venus scars, dowry-land nonpareil



IMAGE: Symphony in White no. 1—The White Girl—Portrait of Joanna Hiffernan by James Abbott MacNeil Whistler


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