two ceramic ducks on a shelf
above ivory keys
blue and pink,
they are
kissing
permanently kissing
beak over beak, in a French way
we also
behave:
no running inside and leave
our shoes at the threshold
be so good we collect dust
a prima vista: at first sight
biding for when the fallboard
lowers and the painter turns in
biding time to savour bites
of melody and sweetness
in moderation, biding
for the deep quiet to slip in
to rest my blues against your pink
skin on skin, underarms over sheets
a prima vista, my dear we are
sight-reading, lip-syncing
to the tempo of your pulse
as the wax runs upstream
on a curling wicks
