SANCTITY

Lips like heaven
paul saw seven
but your place is the eighth
faith in your thighs
love in your mouth
charity
the rarity of the roundness
of your secret hills
will—to ride the night
like a jockey in a derby
the whole night is the derby
and your are the most magnificent

SAINT BRIAN

This is for Brian
whose thighs were full
and met at an ass rising
and dusky like the waxing moon
soft as prayers and cusses
firm as faith
the sight of it makes me
sure that heaven smells of
deepest earth
and its gateway is all covered
in brown hairs