enough

it is
what I get from you . . .
unheralded & honeysuckled
this bridge of
enough . . .
spanning the place between cargo pants
and lacy underthings
sweet clove surrender
folding into a pink borealis of
feminine fire
decidedly belonging .
enough . . .
to fill the broken places & saddle the phoenix-rising
from tail to breast
snow white of bone-hollowed fullness
secrets carried close & wild
always enough . .