all roads lead to where you are

two and two to make a dance, the mind dances with Itself

to dream of baboons and periwinkles only here and there

such darling wrecks hived like honey in your head

and there's a turbulent moon-ridden girl or old woman, or both

i love you and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth

back to my roots and leaves and thorns and buds and shiver

there will be time to murder and create