What if I could tell you how it felt

Under the skin, intra-nerves

Where the meanings are—

Would you know me,

Kiss me perhaps,

Your lips without

Politics? Yes and no

I say, ambition

Is lovely, the light

Of the mind is like tea

In a Russian glass,

I love you, my heart

Lifts like a taffeta skirt

In a good dance.

No, no, it is mystic

When the party’s over,

When there are no words,

Each of us waving farewell

With printed pages in our hands.