for C.C.
I said I was
nella Campagna, nella campagna
that was my joke
as you took the car off the road
and wordlessly through green branches
to where wide earth
was silent by vines and horse houses.
You put me inside you
under your skirts
and that’s when I thought of my joke.
Sometimes the simplest way is silence
the car so hot I could only make out
horse sounds in the back
our two bodies moving beyond a joke.