In the Romantic Longhand of the Night
Let’s kneel on gravel, take apart the lace
of fruit, and blade the wool of gracious lambs
who kiss hard and eat the changing face
of meadows. Late, the lark’s a con of hands
that frowns aloud, spinning a tale free of green.
Let’s break into picnics on the phone,
befriending boys who crack safes and win
ribbons for pigs that curry in the grain.
Let’s soap each face that’s locked in a bathroom
and slip in a letter written in the night’s romantic
longhand. Let’s fake it the right way, costumed
in the right light for the wrong person.
We say we aren’t, but we’re seeking the tricky
algorithm of travel, boys who wager swans first,
surviving on cobwebs and capture.
Diana Marie Delgado
In the Romantic Longhand of the Night was first published in Indiana Review, Latino & Latina Writers Issue, Summer 2006.