This next poem is a sonnet.
But I think of it as a sonnet with the soul of a villanelle.
Together we lay down.
Together we lay down where time begins.
Where time has gone, a limb sprouts from a pear.
Our kisses taught us all the outs and ins.
Coming and going always found us there.
To hold back is to touch as touchers know.
Where time renews, a trunk sprouts from a limb.
Such growing backwards toward our body
so, to lose a him and her, and her and him.
Time gathers to a pause where trunk strikes ground.
There is a double speed in going slow.
We stop to find our coming turned around.
The pear was what we were, where we would go.
The seed is in the ground all come to kiss.
Where time stops, we lie down, no end to this.
[APPLAUSE]