An Ode to Courtney Silverman

She's my Mona Lisa

not dark and ageless
but flesh and love,

trying on dresses,
speaking to me
gentle like a dove

singing happily in the morning
while I make the coffee

watering her jade plants
while I write poetry

sometimes she looks at me
mysteriously
with her wild round green eyes,
imparting her womans' secrets...

all in a moment
too brief for enlightenment