She Ties My Bow Tie

What you thought was the sound of the deer drinking

at the base of the ravine was not their soft tongues
entering the water but my Love tying my bow tie.
We were in our little house just up from the ravine.
Forgive yourself. It's easy to mistake her wrists
for the necks of deer. Her fingers move so deftly.
One could call them skittish though not really because
they aren't afraid of you. I know. You thought it was the deer
but they're so far down you couldn't possibly hear them.
No, this is the breeze my Love makes when she ties me up
and sends me out into the world. Her breath
pulled taut and held until she's through. I watch her
in the mirror, not even looking at me. She's so focused
on the knot and how to loop the silk into a bow.

--Gabrielle Calvocoressi