The Second Eclipse

I wept about what I feared,
Feared what she wept,
Wrote up a list of timid sorrows
And faults, fell dead, laying awake,
Trying it out in wordless whispers
Into a mirror: Pride, hypocrisy, manic
Moods and shame; finally fell asleep,
A fuel-stained moment of empty bliss.

She pegged her donkey to a target
And sealed it with a kiss. Told me
I had to wait till the second eclipse.

I turned a half-moon, mooned white my ass,
Unbuttoning my Levi mask of blue ash,
Went back to my puny dry barrio abode,
Listened to the sweet Popsicle truck bells
And faced a loaded gun. Couldn’t keep still.

Her delicate rebirth. My cold season.
My prayer, a whisper of self-made ritual,
My salty Hohokam tongue licking
Small circles around
The anatomy of love.

You crave my body, I crave you,
When moonlight passes cool.
I live in terror and wonder
Of a woman’s churning bones.

Listening to music
So loud it’s not true.
I could go deaf
Trying not to
telephone you.