Shy, she is not the most
forthcoming
of your inner sirens

these sylvan sisters
of your goddess soul
languouring by various
pools of self

dark for vision
opalescent grey of thought
rampant red of rushing

This shy sister
resides in the verdant arbor
beyond the garden
of your apparencies

responding only to
the most delicate queries
disguised as caresses

For even to begin to speak
directly with her
(a rare and sublime conversation)
one must be prepared
to travel as a snail south
and know the humble tongue
of a lover's question

Yet there are other passages
to her limpid lair
though each invokes
not the safe-cracker's touch
but enough palpating hum
(and listening)
to chart the epidermal flush
with eyes closed

This subterranean sibling
of the finest senses
is the hidden queen
of many more appurtanent
princesses

Each of whom must first
be addressed and adorned
by silken embraces
humid compliments

until all conjoin into
a royal orchestra
prepared, attentive
to the upraised baton

to begin the fugue
transformed into
complete concerto
engulfing the pianissimo

entre con spirito

For, at the moment
she emerges
throwing aside the deep red
hood of hidden-ness

she is magnetized
to bring the dance
right to her
petite footsteps

en pas de vivre

Her shimmering moment
carried along by
shivering chords

until that cymbal clash
silences all
in one grand
rigorous mortis

But even this is still
not the secret sibling

just her disguise

For she arrives as quickly
and as fragile
as an arctic bloom

one moment past
the midnight sun
carried on the silver cloud
of that one
great sigh

Your eyes finally open
having internalized
the collapse
of another day's regime

ready to elect
a new minister of...
just this

And I understand again
(as in the humility of
my new travel within you)

that while you are
rearranged as your atoms
you will remember me
(again)

(after a moment)

and the luxury
on your lips
is her wedding gift
to both of us

this mysterious sister
from so far
within you
she might as well be
another whole country

And as she slips back
away from me
into you
and then gone

I see myself
returning
to the embassy
of your eyes

to begin still
another application

for still
another visa

(each one good
for one visit only)

(each visit lasting
only one night)

Writing still another entry
into this phrase book
(disguised as poetry)
that helps me translate

this loving you

into a language
we both might understand