WEBVTT

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And I thought I'd like to
read a love poem or two.

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Huh?

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This one I like, again,
because, although it starts out

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in rhyming couplets, it
doesn't quite make it.

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I spent a long time
struggling with it.

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And then I kind of
capitulated and let

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the poem have its own way.

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It's called After Love.

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Afterwards, the compromise.

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Bodies resume their boundaries.

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These legs, for instance, mine.

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Your arms take you back in.

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Spoons of our fingers,
lips admit their ownership.

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The bedding yawns.

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A door blows aimlessly ajar.

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And overhead, a plain
singsong's coming down.

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Nothing is changed,
except there was

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a moment when the wolf,
the mongering wolf, who

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stands outside the self,
lay lightly down and slept.

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