poem: the ones who bring us joy

In the sermon of an ancient writer, a Puritan,

we are commanded

always to pray

for those who entertain us:

the lovely, the witty, the beautiful.

For they give us joy, he said.



It's true.

We use them.

Their wit, their prettiness.

Then we go on our way.



There is someone, very lovely,

beautiful to look at,

whom I have loved.



He lives in my daydreams

and sexual fantasies.

An object.



And I must rememdy this.

Because the beautiful are not made

to inhabit my fantasies.



They live and breathe and grieve and fear.



So, yes, beginning today

I will begin to pray for this person

this lovely beauty

who has

for six months

been my object of desire,

my  desired

                         object.