POEMS FOR NOONE  

Passion Sleeps

Passion steps down tonight, into the spiral of sleep.
No love, tonight we  rest and contemplate on  what we create from the air;
perhaps the elopement of a savage pear to a cluster of thirsting bees in from the heat.

And the lover loves to think she is all there, smoothing out the vestige of her hand.

She speaks in arcane tongues and says "life is fine." That, "the
fire comes when the stars speak." 

She refuses to remove the spear from her breast.