The Dead, Dead Water Lily Thing

You can’t just lie there on the bed, you know.
You can’t lie there without kissing back, you know!
All the piles of books and not even a blood nose!
I smell of blood.
And is there really nothing I can do to you?
is there nothing to add here?
I look through the sand in your mouth.
and pick out the pearls
and place them in the beaks
of the pigeons.
Ididitonce, thedead, deadwaterlilythingwater
You must have known
that when I left I felt your head turning
but had no mercy.
My words were simple — I’d given up poetry —
and I climbed back into the t o w e r,
up the fine plaited ladder.
In the car — can you feel the sweater tag itching?
pulling at the neck where I tied your threadstogether?
Your spine plaited down
your back
thefeminineside
but not on my body.
AndslowlyIreelyouinin
Unravelling with me up the escalators,
down the road,
around the corner,
untie my hair from the ocean of winter.
The roads and the cars dissolve behind me as I
untie you;
walkonthewater;
onthesweetwaterlilies.
There is no giving back you know. You take and take again. Is that what you
want?
Listen:
sud
ba
uso
busbusbusbuscarcarcarcarbusbusbdr
roadroadroadroadroadroadroadroadroadroadroadroadroadroadroa