Prairie Fire - - DEGAN DAVIS -

I saloon into the room and whis­per

what I need her to do,

leave and then come back,

be­cause love is like that: it loves

what it loves. A stage.

What kind of man are you

if you can’t be both stern

and ten­der. No mat­ter

the ar­rest­ing act, the vast­ness

of the imag­i­na­tion—the pose,

the brief va­ca­tion of pain, that shiver

which is the body’s yes.

The act must sub­mit

to the word—




be­come it, bend un­der it

un­til each kiss runs its own


and ev­ery­one—

ev­ery­one holds their breath

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