By Marilyn Hacker
Didn't Sappho say her guts clutched up like this?
Before a face suddenly numinous,
her eyes watered, knees melted. Did she lactate
again, milk brought down by a girl's kiss?
It's documented torrents are unloosed
by such events as recently produced
not the wish, but the need, to consume, in us,
one pint of Maalox, one of Kaopectate.
My eyes and groin are permanently swollen,
I'm alternatingly brilliant and witless
-- and sleepless: bed is just a swamp to roll in.
Although I'd cream my jeans touching your breast,
sweetheart, it isn't lust; it's all the rest
of what I want with you that scares me shitless.
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Thursday was a less rainy, dark day than Wednesday, though colder. Paul worked from home in the morning while he had phone conferences, so I had company till a bit before lunchtime. He also put fresh seed in the bird feeder, so the cats had company out on the deck -- a very pesky squirrel trying to find a way to get the seeds. I discovered the other day that the version of Google Docs on my Android phone can't open older versions of Google documents, so I spent some time converting anything I thought I might need to open with the mobile app.
Gblvr and I had dinner at the mall and neither of us had our usual -- I had a spinach stromboli, and See's Candy was giving out samples so I had that for dessert, plus Crabtree & Evelyn gave us pomegranate body lotion samples. At home I watched the Q episode of Deep Space Nine, then The Shadow in the North, which I'd downloaded forever ago but somehow managed never to watch till it turned up on Masterpiece Mystery tonight. I like Matt Smith much better in these than I do in Doctor Who, and I like Billie Piper better in this one than Ruby in the Smoke -- will there be any more?
A few more photos from Battle Creek Cypress Swamp, which has a nature center as well as the boardwalk through the cypresses:
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