Forget what they taught or didn't teach you in school.

It is of no use here. It is me-you we-two alone and mute.

You always said you were La Bete and I La Belle ~

I held water for you in my cupped hands and you drank me in,

proving myself then, you said, pure of heart...

You had seen my reflection in a mirror that did not exist and told me You looked so wholly innocent -

All I saw was innocence...

How right you were about that much, love.

You were the La Bete tho, had me back against the brick wall of hushed downstairs

where we made-love as my blood rushed crimson rose a blush to my cheek

and i lifted my leg as a dancer, high above your hip, pulling you close. No, closer...

Now you are mute. Silent but not sous-silence. There is no tacit understanding between us anymore -

understanding has gone and I am left with nothing but these tokens that you gave:

a piece of a broach, a marbled bead, two snapped wishbones, a brief brush to the cheek...

as we greet each other at family occassions and play at forgetting that love was.