For Jennifer Josephy br br On cold days br it is easy to be reasonable, br to button the mouth against kisses, br dust the breasts br with talcum powder br & forget br the red pulp meat br of the heart. br br On those days br it beats br like a digital clock- br not a beat at all br but a steady whirring br chilly as green neon, br luminous as numerals in the dark, br cool as electricity. br br & I think: br I can live without it all- br love with its blood pump, br sex with its messy hungers, br men with their peacock strutting, br their silly sexual baggage, br their wet tongues in my ear br & their words like little sugar suckers br with sour centers. br br On such days br I am zipped in my body suit, br I am wearing seven league red suede boots, br I am marching over the cobblestones br as if they were the heads of men, br br & I am happy br as a seven-year-old virgin br holding Daddy's hand. br br Don't touch. br Don't try to tempt me with your ripe persimmons. br Don't threaten me with your volcano. br The sky is clearer when I'm not in heat, br & the poems br are colder.