EVERLASTING FLIRTATION

A rose dangles

Above our collected heads

(Folklore, the thousand pedaled

Lotus)

Its pedals swirl

In light, in shadow

In light, their crimson blooms

onto pink

In shadow, their vermillion deepens

onto the first spread of red

in the womb

Between the pedals

The pistil, its stylish ovary

Playing a song for us:

Primal digits on pollen strings

Pluck the most delicate snare

(Chime

Swell

Chime

Swell)

If the song had a title

I’d call it:

EVERLASTING FLIRTATION

To flirt with all people

Just the same

To flirt with every drop

In the well of souls

In mud, in grass, on hard wood floors,

Or linoleum, even the cracking concrete

Just the same

To flirt with myself

Just the same as I do with the

One whom I see a future filled with dance

Just the same as I do with the

One who grimaces and walks on

But not all flirtation is the same

It consonates to the degree

The other desires to receive it

Just the same

I’d flirt with all things the same

Enjoying the endless forms my love could take

Waiting for the chance

To smell the rose above our heads

To be two or more members of its band

With you, again.

...

To kiss with my eyes

Understanding

To embrace the confused kid

Without moving

To celebrate our time

And the chapters where we struggle

To envision a future

Where we all wake up with the sun

And drink each other’s wine

Under the full moon

And cuddle beneath the stars

When the moon is new

And the constellations naked!