circé's hands

toyota girl gleams white/circé hands wander hairless slit like a chinese puzzle/you need binding/all virgo & precision/you massacre my nights/white thigh top stockings & shiny black patent leather high heels/stretch a highway right up inside the pink & grey tissue/abruptly ending at a firm cervical cap/like another closed mouth/near the heat of you, centre, en pointe/all of that these many years down the pike/& you'll be home at long last/but not where I am/& you have changed/the space & time of us disappeared like yr green cotton underwear/jettisoned like childhood the shell falling into someone else's re-entry.//So daddy died/with the soft poke of confession just on his lips/my turn will come, I realize./But what portents blow/thru that fine blonde brain of your's these days?/I hear you're in school again./ Good for you/Some of you needs that shackling/you'll be happier/and you've a guy too/redressing some of the many grievances, huh? your dionysian body should appreciate that.//Me, I'm still tense in the midnight/playing house & love with another girl/who is not you. You come in the shadow play of sleep/and so I cannot sleep. I admit it/I underestimated how bad I was gonna catch you./And I pay/every night with my sadness/miscellaneous stuff: the movie rewound and whipped through/over and over again/misconstrued/minstrel show reality sliding into fantasy/admittedly sexual/our bodies were the part that agreed the most/other than that we mainly watched each other/amazed by what we saw/but pleased you know/pleased & pleasured/will I ever have that again?

From 1983, but referring to the mistaken love affair from 1979. Call it a letter to someone with whom I no longer talked. Interestingly enough we played a lot of bridge in those years in the early 1980s. We just didn't talk.