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Minnemingo Review

Eros                                                      Gillian Smith

I love you so much, sweet I could sing out
an aria—not a Puccini but one of my own singing—
where lyrical lilting fortissimo sounds like a brown
beach in the thundering cool of March, with
serpentine slinks of sargasso and purple mussels
absent of pearls and unwieldy with salt,
bombasting in the bright foam of F major
that you--are --my--gentle--man, the moon-licked
slow tide that tickles the rough pink
sand with warm angelfish breath; I would dance around
your fingertips like a gypsy woman with red lipstick
and silver bangles, and my chiming tintinabula would be
the only other voice because I love you so
softly, and that is enough.