Herpes 2
Marital status?
the public health nurse asks

I look around the tiny room
forbidding my hand to touch
the cold sore

where are you?
what are they doing to you?
what are you saying when asked
Do you engage in oral sex?
When did you last give?
When did you last receive?
is someone asking you the same
questions?
How many sexual partners
in the last month?
Last two months?
Last year?

misunderstanding my hesitation
the public health nurse suggests
Single?

but
we are two women
what can we ever be except
single
still, I am connected to you
in ways that have nothing to do
with laws or convention

she repeats Marital status?

not knowing what else to say
I give a half laugh
Damned if I know!
still not understanding
the public health nurse laughs

Herpes 3
No sex
that's what the public
health nurse says

I am puzzled

Is it sex
when I look into your Irish-
blue eyes and wild feelings
shimmer around my chest
dance around my stomach

Is it sex
when I kiss the grey and
white hairs curling behind
your ear for a moment
I can't speak

Is it sex
when I breathe against
your ear your whole body
pushes me across the bed

Is it sex
when I wake to the sound
of you breathing rapidly
waves ripple through
my body like your
voice in my ear
so fast
I turn

Herpes 4
You
wear a cotton T-shirt
solid as any barrier
protecting me from
two little sores under
your right breast

I
can't reach up under
the T-shirt, I might
touch the sores

I
have a flash of inspiration
we take off your T-shirt
pull my black camisole
over your head

it suits you perfectly

I
pull the narrow straps
down your freckled arms
freeing first one, then
the other
soft breast


*Originally published Fireweed, Issue 51/52, Toronto, 1996. The eVersion here represents an author-edited version of the poems excerpted from an unpublished chapbook of poetry, 2005.