The First Day We Met
She found words running loose in the Strand,
fit them for goofy hats
corralled them into a corner
and conducted them into photographs.
She knew how to assemble them.
You kiss like you are,
as I sat stumped on eight across,
Then you’re not.
If Love Felt Like the Water Cycle
Drift out the window
Land in a puddle of silk
Float skyward, unbound.
I wish that my jealousy
Would stagnate like a dammed river.
Jealousy rages on—swelling, overcoming.
While the only damned thing