on that gold sli pper
on the table beside the bed
riding like a chariot of fear)
or of pleasures which cost nothing
except an almost imperceptible
hardening of the heart
but none of these sweet emotions
ever shook up my life
and went to its very core
as does sheer being with you
at first your close eye
for the details of life
which could set us both laughing
then those secrets just for ourselves
not to be shared
about which I will only say
some of them are like a furnace
a smel ter in which rare metals are refined
so intense you must forgive me
for the dross which sometimes
surfaces in my heated speech
and other times more mundane
just now in the breakfast nook
slicing the ginger root
for your cup of fresh tea
or coming to you last night
standing face to face
to have my collar buttoned
to the Alpine meadows in Whistler
or the view down from the Monte di Nava
