She sweated, sweated and swore.
She predicted a total eclipse
as if it were replenishing shade.

This is the only reality, wrote Sartre,
this public garden and its gravel paths
dappled with sunlight

Nobody understood her cruelty to herself. In this life, cruelty
begets cruelty, and, before long, one would have to chop off
one's own hand to end the source of self-torture. Yet, we

I read about their hive in a beekeeping book,
the 1916 fire near a lumber pile where
they fanned their wings furiously,

The ivory wedding hat came tumbling down—
how long had it been stored away, untouched
like desire repressed and bound—

For what is there to say
that hasn’t been said before with more,
or less, or approximate skill?

Though you learned the dance routines they made you learn
    and you were 1996 Colorado State All-Star Kids Cover Girl

Meeting his mouth made it so I had house again.
I called him garden and drew him so, grew

         Their flat bodies I held with grave disrespect;
            perhaps this is why I sought them.

Recall the white room I took you to
when you could not breathe?
Reader, please, it’s called chivalry.