the first love
I became aware
that glass beads were within my body
I’m pretty sure I found myself through him
for I didn’t know how completely opposed I was
he talked in sentences unfinished,
I spoke in volumes
he could relate to me like
a duck could relate to a dragonfly
the second love
was so sure I was a butterfly
that he pinned me in his book
and tried to keep me held inside.
today when I speak
to handsome grins and eyes,
and speak of ordinary procedures in life
my tongue betrays
insects fly from my mouth
and whizz around their heads
each love I meet I become aware that
beads are in my body
the kind they make pieces in mosaics.
Now I know I’m looking for masonry.