Footnotes

*Without hesitation, I would crawl into the depths of his eyes, rake the curve of his spine in Italian. And with ardent movement, tongue pearls against his insides.

*It is art--lovely and moving. How beautiful your words, from the sweetened balcony of your heart to the balance in your footfall.

*I am not patience. I am a hundred European lovers, a thousand rhythms or rhyme. I am a million sunlit mornings after rain--I am the orchard.

*Oh, how the light your eyes reflects inside of me. And with each new day, I need you even more--a pleasure so vast, it flickers on my skin.

*When we stand before each other, the day will last forever. We will make love like Neruda; flesh becoming warm, the evening, or the memory of rainfall.

*Like Neruda, I will fashion fine love poetry between tender fingertips. I will place this gift at your feet in admiration.

*I leave the lamp lit when I sleep, for a boy in the fields. His hands wet like winter, will find their way to my [warm] breast.