There was no one but the black-eyed susans
To see her thighs so smooth and strong
Her feet so lost
And her heart so broken
As she gave herself, a wafer,
On the tongue of the shrouded water.
Fog was a mercy,
Or the turning-away of god
In the memory it both brought and obscured
Of love within reach--
Two girls and the early morning.
Where was I?
Where was anyone, when the water fanned her dark hair like a lover's fingers?
There are mornings,
When I am struck scalding blind,
Deaf without body or blood,
Without lover, without sister,
Without anything but the black-eyed susans
And the foggy invitation of the water's depths.