mdcxli

The Red Book of Love

Reach into my pocket.  I’ve a
crumpled dollar bill for love.

I believe in the phoenix
behind the curtain.  And

a kiss that crumples roses
(I wish I were a white rose

for you).  I love you like
the bookmarks of all of my

favorite boarded up book-
stores.  Anyway, what would

you have me say, Smooch-of-
Angel at stroke of midnight?

I get so lost on tossed seas,
I guess. When what I'd 

much rather prefer (and I

heretofore will it so) is 

that my spot on this
couch upon which we

both sit gets ever deeper
as yours draws ever

nearer.