To be or not in love
with your picture or your womanhood?
This delicate peony
or that light-reflected knee?

The fingers many
which string this heart’s yoyo
people the petals of your peony
and figure out the curved space
of a blonde muse kneeling down
outside the Chelsea flower shop window
where tomorrow I’ll be picking
just a peony
for you
A knuckle knocking on 105
a buzzer pressed on the door phone
and you will be coming down
to a dishevelled shirt-out
pair of sandals
young smile
a knuckled-down pony
ready to polo!
’cause Alec’s got a girlfriend