Secret Public Meetings

She meets me in sleeves of flowers
and ants around her neck.
Where does she come from
and where does she go?

She greets me
in unabashed bloom,
where everyone can see
but no one is watching

our secret public meetings,
in metro parks, on city sidewalks.
I feign indifference, pen my ecstasy,
to those devoted to punctuality.

They rush by.
I stroke her throat.
I could cry.
How does she do it, again and again?

 

 


 

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