‘Renaissance’
I’ve been canvassing
all your lonely nerve endings,
tying loose beginnings
into slip knots,
synching sensations
from oughts
to a taut progression
of cause and effect.
And you’re affected
by my affect—
a simple smirk,
a jaunty step,
sends you into a spin
of choreography,
all predetermined.
So I catch you
every time,
bring a rise,
leaven loaf,
recipe of heat
and yeast—
pumpernickel,
but I’m broke
and empty.
Hungry and praying
to break bread,
last supper before bed,
or in the sheets like da Vinci
on a bit of canvas.
And you moan
over deep house
from Ibiza,
in a romance language,
but I pardon your French
with a kiss.
-N&A
