Anniversaries
(To hear Shelley recite this poem, click here.)

Intimate by now these April waltzes, bound

upwards of a Jubilee - spinning breathless, I,

holding fast to keep her earthbound, she,

her customary cleaving to the one-two-three,

lip-whispered through an unconvincing smile -

of dances, each time new, each time once around

the sun, newly remembered, of happy endings, we,

straggling from the floor with weary

weeping laughter, wanting more.