When it comes down to it
I would like to sit with love,
have tea with it and discuss
the ethics of ball fields or
the details of a full-body photo
of a woman of power
in the Times.
It doesn’t always have to be a wall
whose impact hits like still water
on a body dropping flat.
No need for for freefalls
or near-death collisions except for
what our weary knees can stand.
I would like to sit and maybe nap
surrounded by open hands.
I want to be warmly wrapped
but instead of by bitter ors,
by dreamy ampersands.