What Little I Know

Hortensia Anderson

---

Not blue
until after death
maybe,
but salty wet
I dive in --

it is dark,
the moon shut out
by black curtains.

That's alright --
I control the
uncontrollable:
our tidal waves
and rhythms.

At this moment,
I know and I know
for a fact
that you are the
white of cream,
eyes and hair
some strange gold --

I have bodies
of water in the
fridge, they take
the curved shape of
glass, they effervesce
when opened,
somewhat like you --

if this is a vice,
I may have gotten
a lot done at once --

You, love,
are more than a bit
bloated --
take these pills,
you'll pee it out
in the morning.

The 2River View, 3_2 (Winter 1999)