Beware.
You'll come twice in an hour,
     like when you were 19.
The softness and fragrance of the new one's skin
     will make the old one's like everyone else's.
Her hair will blind you.
Her eyes will lock yours.
Your own bed will be alien,
     your sheets will bind.
You'll resent the concavity of the pillow,
     the indent in the sheet.
The bliss of love will be edged by constant deadly compare,
     coming twice each hour while smelling her hair.


5/11/97