I never thought I’d live the present with rigor
or freedom
like your budding hairs
a herd of mustangs finally free
charging through the plain
of your stomach / a new season
rung in by their migration south
toward the viscous trickle
of your laughter
But now I do
soak in a morning of bananas
on toast and coffee and
country songs interspersed
with cigarettes and sheets
we sprawled across:
How easily we lay
parallel
to the low hum
of the road
Now I do
retrieve my boy-crazy girlhood you
magazine heartthrob I must
become / transforming so often with
such constance
we are suspended in air
hummingbirds pollinating
lusts and bashful
confessions
With you and missing you
now I do