First Light Love 

         for Diki

Once I thought I'd found love
but it was a monkey skin
swinging from a curtain rod.

When I tickled its chin,
it jabbed me with toenails.
I felt so pricked,

spotted with holes,
a constant downpour raining
through my shocked mouth.

So much for that story.
Now I think love is a cream
for rubbing on my chest

that makes me smell good
when I step out of the bath,
softening my heart

with a certain carelessness,
and something else.