Next time I see you I will be like a devil with horns
or a fire ball hotter and sharper red and bold as the head of a rose which holds itself above the prickly stem.
A face, the pearl in the centre of a pendant
glowing to you, a sacred thing,
to keep me safely at your chain.
I will wash the time off my body and be smooth
like a woman begging to be touched, and colour my face
so that I am not a pale memory.
And I will try my best
to wait, with arms tied together and my mouth taped shut,
to see if that is what you wanted.