Arctic Circle

(reprieve)

Pause, I thought: say something right, it being night.

I want to do a true thing for you if I can: alleviate: 40 watt

twilight, heartfelt, athwart the draperings:

the dressing room: the boom of your empty shirts,

abandoned shoes, the harrowing dirge of trousers disused:

our house on ice, the snowdrops I stash, thuriferous,

in every conceivable, in lieu of potpourri:

I tiptoe in, on the bias, my shadow dissuading me:

I have to see how much of you

I´ve left: you spring up, amphibious, your face a sudden wreath

of welcoming teeth, as if

it is all down the drain again: the sulphur, the brimstone.

Thank God there is nothing, no halfwitting poison

you can any more for long

remember. Yes. Blow a kiss