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For Love
Robert Creely
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- For Bobbie
- YESTERDAY I wanted to
- speak of it, that sense above
- the others to me
- important because all
- that I know derives
- from what it teaches me.
- Today, what is it that
- is finally so helpless,
- different, despairs of its own
- statement, wants to
- turn away, endlessly
- to turn away.
- If the moon did not . . .
- no, if you did not
- I wouldn't either, but
- what would I not
- do, what prevention, what
- thing so quickly stopped.
- That is love yesterday
- or tomorrow, not
- now. Can I eat
- what you give me. I
- have not earned it. Must
- I think of everything
- as earned. Now love also
- becomes a reward so
- remote from me I have
- only made it with my mind.
- Here is tedium,
- despair, a painful
- sense of isolation and
- whimsical if pompous
- self-regard. But that image
- is only of the mind's
- vague structure, vague to me
- because it is my own.
- Love, what do I think
- to say. I cannot say it.
- What have you become to ask,
- what have I made you into,
- companion, good company,
- crossed legs with skirt, or
- soft body under
- the bones of the bed.
- Nothing says anything
- but that which it wishes
- would come true, fears
- what else might happen in
- some other place, some
- other time not this one.
- A voice in my place, an
- echo of that only in yours.
- Let me stumble into
- not the confession but
- the obsession I begin with
- now. For you
- also (also)
- some time beyond place, or
- place beyond time, no
- mint left to
- say anything at all,
- that face gone, now.
- Into the company of love
- it all returns.
The Gift
I Know A Man
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