something

After looking at you the hard way
I thought I saw a tambourine
fall, like so many
grains of salt, behind your eyes.

The ocean was plain,
but beyond that blue and lime,
ringed by white salt,
I felt warmth coursing through your veins.

Like a trap set for pain,
I thought your blood vessels pulled too quickly,
too brightly, and with too much humor
not to immure you with gold
and set you free.

Looking at my hands,
my hands seem weathered,
wrinkled and old,
but looking into the beyond
I saw only pleasure,
guiltless liquid pleasure I could use for anything.

The minutes have passed,
and whoever Auden might be
is just as knotted as before, but in different rope.