And as we smash every glass, my tongue,
Thick with that relentless sweetness,
Craves the astringent clarity of spring,
Bitter leaves, and asparagus.
Long sprung, the scilla and the daffodils,
And the fingers of the magnolia spread
Beyond your gaunt shoulder, as you’d see
If you’d just once turn your back to me;
The sun is so strong it paints your ears
Luminous rose, like a hare’s.
Don’t deny that you’re weary of this thrall,
Of feasting on dust and salted asphalt,
Of your own swaggering leather step
Fracturing birdsong; admit that you strain
To hear frogs over the wraiths of songs
The dead won’t let you forget.
Don’t pretend that your heart didn’t burst
When that hot breath from the southwest
Kissed the back of your neck the other day;
I watched you lock away your lust and hope
In the casket where your spring soul twists,
But remember: I have the key.