they bumble about
the mongrel consort’s countenance
maddening him with spiky apian grins

he is stingless, defenseless
unable to feed himself
his only concern loving her
but she does not desire

her verses are mumbled jawbreakers
narcoleptic narratives
droning in the monotone of swarms

he watches her fondle waxy saints and statues
wants to cup his fingers and caress her
as if she were a puff of smoke

pale pollen clings to his memory like time

he tends her sugared lips
imagining her
imagining her
the sweet, stark-boned

woman of his dreams