Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

My Love

My love is not a guest
from the Five and Dive
that twinkles like a flashy star.
But a sweet summer,
a half moon
sprouting rare rows of lovely ribbons
for you to come upon.
I bleed blue
and dance across the ice
all eggs and jam.
My love is in London,
and Paris,
and Madison.
My love is the poem I couldn’t write.
The book left unread.
Eleven years of seasons.
It is sleeping till dawn,
and the bird’s shadow,
the creamy white paper of dawn.
My love is whispered like money,
a forest of skin for you to taste,
and hold,
and mark
till we both lie down
and die.