LESS THAN BEFORE

Now, I love less than before.

It's the only way.

I shape-shift into a stranger,

Lonely as an unthread needle.

I hold back my body,

Not quite dead.

Offer tiny crumbs of myself,

Enough for the birds.

My heart wears a glove.
A pulse in silk,

And like a lady,

I remove one finger at a time.

My body rests in a beehive

Where workers swarm,

Company for a fallen queen,

Sweetless as a conquered kingdom.

And when I dance, it's with myself, 

Hurricane feet and dervish hips,

Whirling to my string and bow. 

A fury of song. 

I am harnessed like a horse

Gripping reigns, afraid to gallop

to that place where love takes over, 

Full and splendid,

A tangled mess unwinding

Always to a darkened room. 

I am a pilgrim travelling slowly,

A changeling in flowers,

Stopping where the kindness is,

Avoiding strangers and the woman
I once was; feckless, proud,
as open as unknowing.

I am an infidel to love,

Hardly here,

Confined to seeking.

Hiding what is left.