Invisible Lovers --for K

"I'm the invisible
who sees the truth"

Before I met the woman "who sees the truth"
I believed the photographs of dreams composed
from negatives colored with factual dyes.
There was no emulsion that bore the touch of light
without fogged images of desire covered by mask.
Blindfolds warped closed while shutters clicked
to expose gray sunsets with white opal eye.

After she spoke and I learned what I could
from the mystery and harmony of footsteps --
that grand parade that was first kiss to our dance.

Later under covers watching her eyes open and close
I felt where her body rose again to the ease of horizon
and the tree line from one field to another was natural
portrait and the falling red leaves made autumn blaze.

Pleasure cried from our lips as rivers bend
tall grass, marsh and sand with acres of legs
marching helter skelter on Venice beach
where we swam last month until our arms
would not stop and our breathing ran out.

2.
You are invisible but more alive
than women who I have loved.
I cannot explain it. Mystery does
not require any long story about
how it happens. It is. You dance.
I follow through the wild willows,
the earth is dry but they live long
and defy the natural properties
of thirst and the flow of leaves
over the endless track of lands
where we hold hands again.