In Which I Compare Love To

It was a revelation to know that there are different kinds of honey,
that clover is our most common

and that the taste of darker honey rolls in my mouth, slides
like two coats drifting off a crooked table--

twine like trees, like a trunk within five others,
an atlas.

In the evening, please post this on the board:
The marriage of two fingers is new and blows soft winds, eventually,

in the calmest sea--let there be an understanding that, originally, the table is set
without anyone ever having thought to organize it,

as if merely the clinging sound of fork against spoon were sound enough.