Promenade

In the alley, we raised

arms to flight,

matching the kiss we threw

through windows of skirts

and police search lights.

Outside the theatre,

the music, late from switching cars,

put strings on a drum

and hung horns from the balcony,

where I proposed.

You asked what my hands knew

when you bit me;

why my heart stood guard,

where are the ribbons

that held our hips 'til morning,

how is a rainbow going to press

between pages of chocolate ?

We've rehearsed this promenade,

and now to the moon.

No fanfare,  just the bride

a down beat

and groom.

When a man, meaning me,

loves a woman, meaning you,

he leaves her his skin

and walks raw in the world,

gathering bits of halo

to make a home.

What returns to him,

brighter than frosted breath,

is the purpose of sun on roses,

an altar of stars

in bloom.