Lucille Clifton and Olga Broumas

[andygrrrl]

For Every Heart

I like it when my friend has lovers, their happy moans,
unrestrained, fill the house with the glee of her prowess.
As in China, during the concert of the laser harp,
cameras added their applause, percussive,
while the umbilical fanned neon from each note
in the open-air theater and ribboned the path of stars,
I am moved to clap. Hands clapping calm us.
It is their simple, wholehearted and naive sexual imitation,
their fleshbird dance chest-high in the open of time.

Olga Broumas

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