THE WOMAN LAUGHS AT ME
She doesn’t still know it
but she is the one who is for me.
Even though she laughs at the matter
of love-making, for she knows it but shares it
just with her friends,
that I am reeking with envy for
her use of the letter P for Pleasing me
and Po for faced with light and go-for-it
tangs of smelling used salting
that does not heal the wound
she left in me,
but does ask the question:
does she know it is Wednesday or Thursday
this week that I see
her again?
