A Meta-modern Love Poem

                                                                                             for Ricky

•My love descends in a rookery of angels,
the casual stigmata of paper cuts,
paper clips collected in a bowl, objects swelling
over with intent, the shut tones of temple bells

or the unopened book, the burning page
in the fire unscorched, yet—
shifting of focus: a release of rages
ungathered, scattering of blackbirds set

against a white landscape— my words fall into place.
So you see, it contends with expectations,
the fury of release, the unexpected phrase
shifting to a positive affection,

or a mild gesture of your hands slipping
under my own, the world shifting on its axis—
•