you spoke of the velvety sky
                        (I rest my face between the
                        velvet of your sighs) you
                        there, me yes! caught
                        by the throat and so
                        many spokes and so
                        the wheel burns
                        a bright and tidy
                        note (blue neon
                        throbs like the heart
                        of a humming bird)
                        she flaps her wings
                        one thousand flaps
                        per second IMPOSSIBLE
                        (he says) as the wheel
                        churns and burns
                        never having slowed
                        down to observe that
                        happy second, you,
                        LOVE IS A VERB, me,
                        LOVE IS ABSURD but 
                        we still follow that gaze,
                        eyes like tiny beads
                        and why are you so
                        afraid (not me, no
                        never) not you, my
                        mister clever... it's
                        only a matter of
                        threading that needle
                        eyes on the prize, a
                        scarab a beetle
                        (g'night darling) 
                        and we leave ourselves
                        and our footprints behind
                        in wax, our seal, our deal
                        you me and this quiet
                        endeavor
                        (you are mine and I am
                        yours, forever in that plush
                        velvet night, eyes like stars
                        like scars, yes, even more
                        than forever).
I Will Make a Ferris Wheel of Thee
                       Love is a verb.
