his lips fly
He is Wilderness
the breath of God's smile
oh ancient cheek of wilderness
spilling in perfection's way
why am I like this?
open(ed) like the sustained host of miracles
beginning to gain eyes.
Am I not in thrill's thrust holding your ancient tongue in my translation?
aren't I stepping with dirty shoes all over your Jackson Pollack?
aren't these trees older than I ever was
and haven't they seen the wicked become the wondrous?
Your Wilderness
is needed
the gypsies
speak in tongues
and grant three wishes
to anyone
who has heard
you whisper
I have wished, of course
like this:
1 You
2 You
3 You
and now, Love
they believe me
I will take your orders
like a french kiss from a lover
a box of sweets
a thousand letters creased with love
and flowers
strewn in bridal rapture
I Love Your Wilderness
Your Beloved
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