There are no elements so diverse
that they cannot be joined
in the heart of a man.
- JEAN GIRAUDOUX
I--Beryllium
I am a candy-apple red beret,
(printed silk scarf from India)
cinnamon and cloves, hot chai
on your tongue in February, capable
of cutting glass, semiprecious stones.
You are patient, reliable,
(dark wool suit and pinstriped tie)
nine-to-fiving it, not pausing to consider
your New England saltbox, the roses
that you planted long ago.
A candle's flame will warm your hands, yes,
but its fire will never burn as brightly
after it singes your palm.
II--Mercury
You are standing at the windowsill.
Wind and water batter the panes.
You shake drops from your hair,
curling to your ears, water
sliding down your neck, quicksilver
in the rain, electricity without heat.
I am tensed, waiting, the coiled muscles
of a lioness. My skirts are plastered
to my thighs like sloppy wet kisses
against skin--my hands against
your waist (kiss) your hands against
my breasts (kiss) your lips upon
my brow--
kiss.
III--Lead
Dream me into existence, lover.
Take up your palette and brush, color me in
with dusky roses and plums, malleable, yours.
Hurry, lover--day is leaning
against the doorjamb, wending its way
through your roses, along her ears
and neck, along the edges
of your guilty eye.
IV--Arsenic
You are a shadow, wreathed in the judgment
of darkened cathedrals, bloodied rose gardens,
sacramental souls lying scattered on the floor.
And I, I am frightened by your scent
like opium, like rust in the rain.
V--Helium
You are a manifestation,
the laughter of honeysuckle at dusk.
My fingers play along your throat,
passing clear through
my half-dream of love,
solid as the crickets,
quiet in the reeds.
