Hope Chest.

It is shaped
like a dunce cap
It is a bottle of perfume
at the foot of a cross.
It is a photograph
that hums.
It is early
It is day
It is a bed
no one has ever slept in.
It is just a dream.
It is a rosary of lentils.
It is the part you always forget.
It is a woman with an infinite number
of pages.
It is strictly off limits
except when it isnt
that being the hour when you
finally arrive
completely unexpected and gorgeous
as usual.
Elaine Equi.