Swaying in the Ring

I am genuine about persuading you

I am genuine. Half of this is booze.

There are three ropes between us,

And if the transmissions of this world

Belonged to our small history,

You would find me swaying in the ring.

Are these the last frames in our film reel,

Or have I made you invisible

For the first dance of a wedding I dreamed?

I punch only what I breathe in this space.

You see, I have forgotten the red of my gloves.

My love, I cannot remember my boots -

The music and memory they thundered.

We have made everything our enemy.