LOVE DEADLINE
Her lips are to be kissed
at eleven hundred hours.
Her body is to be squeezed
until her lymph rushes
down her thighs. Upon her
breasts are to shine the
twin flicker of dolphins
at play in the swimming pool
of the moon. No one is to
sample her breathperfume.
Her legs are to be splayed
like reeds upon which crocodiles
may crawl. Her heart is to be
pierced by the silver needle
of doubt before alarm clocks
screech and schools
gong the eclipse of the stars.