now that you have come back i don't
know what to do.
i have made a mythology of suffering
and dealing with you,

 of taking wounds
into myself again and again
now that you are here how will i ever
make sense of pleasure, how will i
ever celebrate the joys of lust fulfilled
of the time we wheeled about and
rolled in bed all night long
springs creaking till dawn
and to the light on lilies

clearly, i don't know how to
deal with resurrection