When A Woman Loves A Man
When she says Margarita she means Daiquiri.
When she says quixotic she means mercurial.
And when she says, “I’ll never speak to you again,”
She means, “Put your arms around me from behind
As I stand disconsolate at the window.”
He’s supposed to know that.
When a man loves a woman, he is in New York and she is in Virginia.
Or he is in Boston, writing, and she is in New York, reading,
Or she is wearing a sweater and sunglasses in Balboa Park.
And he is raking leaves in Ithaca.
Or he is driving to East Hampton and she is standing disconsolate at the window, overlooking the bay where a regatta of many-colored sails is going on, while he is stuck in traffic on the Long Island Expressway.
When a woman loves a man, they have gone to swim naked in the stream on a glorious July day, with the sound of the waterfall like a chuckle of water rushing over smooth rocks, and there is nothing alien in the universe.
Ripe apples fall about them.
What else can they do but eat?
When he says, “Ours is a transitional era.”
“That’s very original of you,” she replies,
dry as the Martini he is sipping.
They fight all the time
What do I owe you?
Let’s start with an apology
A sign is held up saying “Laughter.”
When a woman loves a man, she wants him to meet her at the airport in a foreign country with a jeep.
When a man loves a woman, he’s there. He doesn’t complain that she’s two hours late and there’s nothing in the refrigerator.
When a woman loves a man, she wants to stay awake.
She’s like a child crying at nightfall because she didn’t want the day to end.
When a man loves a woman, a thousand fireflies wink at him.
The frogs sound like the string section of the orchestra warming up.
The stars dangle down like earrings the shape of grapes.