I'm armed and ready for a fresh stack of compositions. No, I don't use red ink.
* * *
Here's a poem by Dionisio Martínez, from History as a Second Language:
Charlie Parker: Almost Like Being in Love
These are the shadows of water when water
is thick and no longer transparent.
They are everywhere--on the walls,
across the ceiling.
It was always this good.
One night you undressed me in my sleep.
Very slowly, you told me later.
You said I smelled good.
The sweater, I said. I'd taken it
out of the drawer where I kept
my winter clothes.
It smelled of pine and a long summer.
No, you said. Not wood.
More like the inside of a saxophone case,
all velvet and sweet regrets.
All blues, I said. Blues
and whatever shadows are made of,
I said, falling on you like slow water.