Edith Abernathy

your loveliness red and sliding bluebird-ribbed in blackness and soap-scrubbed eyes cannot see me but love me still still-- with Keats and summer mists my heartsick prince of Rome a gale in your throat instead of your ear full fathom five you choke and moan in midnight stir tugging my hair like a newborn you’re hollow as a bottomless jar my darling and alone together we begin it all