Place a tulip bulb under your pillow
and sleep on it till you dream of lovemaking.
Then plant it in five handfuls of soil
gathered from beneath your lover’s footprints.
Collect raindrops that have dripped
from the branches of a cherry tree.
Pour that rainwater over the bulb through a ring
that you wear or have worn in the past saying,
“I ask water to touch his lips with my thirst,
I ask fire to weave the light in his dreams with my shadow,
I ask earth to grind his nakedness against mine like an avalanche,
I ask air to tempt him with the whispered kiss of my perfume.”
When the tulip blossoms, crush the flower
against your breasts and nape and wrists and hips.
He will find you waiting at midnight
mistaking your body for his bedspread,
your hair for his mirror,
your hands for his cup,
and your smile for his moonlight.
If this had been the method for Mary, she wouldn’t have been nearly so contrary. – mh