POEM FIFTY-SEVEN

She is

everywhere

More than

muse or

goddess

Lover

Vehicle

of

my being

Vessel

of

sorrow

Bearer

of

what's best

The taste

of your milk

remains

The taste

of your wine

lingers

I

am

a

pillar

of

salt

I

dissolve

on

your

lips

and

tongue

I

dissolve

in

your

tears

Dissolved

distilled

evaporated

Into

a

purer

state