After

lovers are light
on the earth
they do not understand
gravity
yet
as I lie
draped over you with nothing
not a molecule
between us
I feel like a soft wet leaf
a piece of news
paper wet with the love of you—
we are both
draped over this paper
maché world
and nothing can
separate us
the mix of our
bodies, our words
all the world’s
affairs
being recreated
softly