Taming the comet

If the maple leaf could stand
more than one moment on the
wind
If we lie here - breathing, unwaiting
No time to
keep, no talk to end

If Rigel remains, each
cloudless night
by your fingersmear on my
window
while I never care again about my hair or the
truth
If I could walk home drunk
on the icy roads,
without falling
while I turn on every word you smoothed with
your mouth

If my ruby-as-scorched-earth
knees
now never pale again - and if
the knot of this
wave never slips
If you were always trespasser and
thief

If we face each other at this
table,
each unable to lift an eye,
long enough for
the saints to learn to hate us
If the promise of it all
remains -
in the room, like the pain of a phantom limb
-
the last of our country's traitors