‘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