First, I had had a thought so                                                    unnerving

I went                                                 cold all over,                                 in the heat. What if I

love this                                                                man,                           whom I hardly know,

more than                                                                 I’ve                          loved any other man, and at

once I was                                                                 a                              water fountain,

at grammar                                                             school,                       in the hall, a bubbler,

I was bubblering,                                                 I had                             turned into

a water-bearer who                                 couldn’t                                     bear but

blubbered her water                            with                                               gulpy blubbers

on a hot summer day.                  Years                                                     ago,

I had   been a   sudden                 desert                                                    fountain

most days, at old love’s                 fresh                                                    sudden end.

And now, here I am, again,

but not in my      cherryskin                               armor,                             again,

not with my cherry bow and                                                 juice-           tipped

arrows and dried cherry jerkin

and quiver, and cherry scenthound                                                —not  that

aging cherry Artemis again, it  feels

different, now, with this humorous                                 curious

man, I feel as if we may be

the distilled fruit, the                                             liquor                          itself, as if I’m

in the interior of                                                 new                                love’s

mouth, I am safe,                                        under                                     his tongue.

And under my                                                 own                                   tongue, look

who you see—                                                            look!,                    perfectly safe, it is he.