A Handful and a Mouthful

Pure motives don’t exist.

You’re a handful and a mouthful.

Assuaging your ambivalence

demands a sea change

to which forces far beyond

the ones you think you rule

can catalytically exert themselves

to fool you into thinking you are fine.

And yet sometimes

the thing created can be kind –

indulgently affectionately glad

through gain and lack to be you:

voluptuously mad-in-love to see

you seem to want to live.

At these times all the whispers

and penumbrae in you

dance and open up and give.

They’re full of tender sighs.

Look at your reflection:

you will see this in your eyes.

.