To Accept is to Let

So shall I be river letting you flow through brook;
like the lines of this poem, I let you paint the sky as blue
or the streets of a certain town lazy while there in a
brothel, a girl without the keys of her self allows you
an interior space, you flowing through her as she heads down
the street you make a tone darker. She will see me as
grumbling, the whir, yet you as blessing. "I will not fear you," forcefully
she says to me, yet for her you are a certain prayer answered. Like these lines
you are grace, but to them I am nil like some primeval stuff

from which light, man, these lines spurn. From me you. Estranged
from me and nothing less, like rainbows for they do nothing less than fade;
from you sky red and nothing less than a knifing;

So I shall be lyric, that which like river but not quite so, like leaves
flowing through air yet not quite so, or of feathers against a gulf yet not quite
the rigidness of earth on air, earth on water,

but the tension of something in space, with gravity an alien word.