Well

You’ll place a mirror before a mirror,
they’ll turn their backs to each other.
You’ll put out the light
between the mirrors.
Your mouth laid across my mouth.
Your word stopped by my word.
Your caress rubbed out by my caress.
Whispered love. Dreams of forgiveness.
So grow set by each other. Weep.
Till I count to three, smile at me,
tender and snuggled,
over the grid of straps and collar-bone
a translucent potato sprout.
I’m going (don’t go!),
I’ll be back.
We’ll be together. Like two mirrors
that have turned their backs on each other.
The shore of your eyes,
delirious, soft,
behind both their backs.