today and yesterday
always slipping on
banana peels

rotten flavor.
rotten smell.

_________________

falling into something with the boy
who explains to you the meaning
of your name, the movement of stars
even on a cloudy night, the moment
of your birth, never mind
the minute, the hour, the day

the days of the year turning
colors of autumn's exhaling,
then peace of cold in our heads,
heavy, and heavier, till
our feet dragging on
in the snow, become weightless
and numb with happiness

(can you smell the cinnamon tea
when i speak)

________________________

he says to write
a poem about the woman
i love

i write
i love this woman
i love this woman

i write
lies

i write
i love
i love

i write
you
i write
you.