Topic: American love
Setting: Coyoacán, Mexico. At the home of a Mexican sculptor friend of the poet’s. Spring leaning into summer. The sculptor, like the poet, is a lesbian. There are women loving women in every room of the house and outer studio building/barn. There are women swimming naked in a small pond. There are womens’ voices, the smell of their skin, flowers and collections of stones and red clay and hands. Everywhere. There are blue indigo plates and turquoise glasses. There are red beads and baskets and sage and candles. There are tortillas and tequila and guitars and dancing. There is the sense that making love has broken free of the night and overtaken the day, and anything else anyone does. A person could lose themselves in this kind of place. Even masculinity turns to cool water.
Someone has just said “What have we done to love?”
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