For Denise

And yes, the wit, the tongue between the teeth.
And yes, courageous, funny, always kind--
and yet the words die when exposed to air
and fall away from what they're meant to bare:

The mild, the steel, the kohl, the baffled pain,
the first time, second, third, and fourth--again?
And fifth, again? Again? The grapple won,
but never long, and always never done.

So yes, the wit, the glint barely beneath.
And yes, the grit, the warmth, the well-tuned mind.
And yet--

The posture of your hands, that glance: I knew
we could be close when you peeked out at me.
Last week, the veil a darker hue, you glanced
again and saw me happy to see you.

the smile in all my life I'm gladdest of
is one that we both knew said we both love