primavera

Botticelli’s Primavera

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love is scarce

it must, by decree

manifest at

just the exact convergence         of stars and moon of planets and suns of clouds and wind.

at the touch of frigid palms

look up and behind

 voice choked by

his breath,          then

spew

beauty

on garments

diaphanous and flowing and luscious      strewn gaily with

newness              enough                                for a garland.

and so   l think I may be

with child.

just at the moment of

conception

they must dance

the three

must dance with grace

while he, moving the air with beating wings

holds back the cloud

while love will pierce

with bronze-tipped arrow

the most virginal              then blood

will spring

and all reason dissolve in  slurry

while she born of ocean spray, froth, delicate lace-white,

holds eyes downcast

love isn’t too hard to get these days       like

at the club

this guy was so hot          but

my bff didn’t think so

he had on this beat suit

blue       like his skin

he didn’t say much

actually nothing

but blew on my shoulder

after I looked at him from

across a crowded room

he left

real early

before the moon was gone

even before we could dance