Let thought become your beautiful lover
For then it will be as noiseless as a piece of mellowing pear, or it will lope 
out like a wind-wild unbridled horse, or pause with you on your balcony, 
taking in the sea smell, not hearing the words of the poet saying love is a 
blue piano, love is a mysterious pulse, love is never anything a poet says it is.
It will be as enchanting as a wandering orphic singer in her little boat 
surrounded by attentive birds.  Indeed, were I not now furling my sails
 and hastening to turn my prow toward land, I might hold forth further on the
 topic.  And you might think me beautiful.

Gail Wronsky is the author of ten books of poetry, prose, and translations, including So Quick Bright Things (What Books, 2010), Poems for Infidels (Red Hen Press, 2004), and Dying for Beauty (Copper Canyon Press, 2000). Gail’s poems and essays have appeared in many journals, including Volt, Pool, Runes, Denver Quarterly, Colorado Review, Antioch Review, Boston Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, Santa Monica Review, Laurel Review, Crazyhorse, Burnside Review, Lafovea, and Pistola. Her work has also appeared in anthologies, including Poets Against War (Nation Books), The Poet’s Child (Copper Canyon), A Chorus for Peace (University of Iowa Press) and Grand Passion: The Poetry of Los Angeles and Beyond.