I love you because you remind me of somebody else.
In heels; in a babydoll; wearing only my old shirt.
We are taking a holiday from the real world.
On the balcony a mantis is caught in half the burlap
of its shedding skin; a cricket gradually eats its face.
So much for mood music.
I love you because of because, because of do,
and these stockingfuls—taken off,
there is only negligible leg. Two pinkish carp
in the fountain by the pool
are circling with maelstroms in mind.
The rhythms are reaching the swimmers.
Needless to say, the rhythms are reaching us too.
Home, I will have to love you for some other reason
or not at all. Am I cruel to you? I am cruel.
I will probably leave you. No one is waiting
to judge good a selfless life
struggling off with its clothes.