The Caretakers

Yes, we stopped a step away from love,

Our hearts held back by will, for each knew

Well whom the other did desire

Though the desired were far and away.

There was little difference between us.

Each sought a severance from the past, now

Tightly packed like a valise, with faces

Turned into beloved junk, a short lull,

A kind of rest, but while I stood at

Hotel counters, filling in my name,

He took his trips, leaving body behind,

Laying all of it, neatly on the bed.

That scented, kinky head, that cold, closed face.

That furrowed brow and those poor pale limbs . . .

Our hands were timid in love-play, moving

On the other’s skin, they knew they were but

Humble caretakers, for a short while allowed

To make their homes on another’s lot.