Another Clumsy Man

I peel you like a fruit and watch you ripen
in the sun—-wishing I knew how to love
you—-sitting on a broken fence as the crabs

split their shells—-chunks of raw abalone
dripping from the beaks of gulls—-we
watch the mysteries accumulate without

disturbing anything—-or at least we try
—-it’s hard to be human and clumsy
there is light that arrives as threads and pools

into clumps—-never approaching the event
horizon—-I run my fingers across the skin
of your face—-eyelids—-nostrils—-and that

little dip below the lower lip that may or
may not have a name—-by the time
I have finished I am already weeping.