At the Farmstead Cheeses and Wines, I Go with my First Impression (Noord Hollander)                                                                                   

Because my selection is bold       she guides me

toward a red that addresses my Dutch    leaning

something that stands    up

to sharpness            more than a hint    of berry            rather tipping—

you             in nothing             but

brambles    fore    arms bearing    what red

would do to your skin if—

(Forget her            she is only the clerk

I the customer

I the customer                        she the woman

checking i.d.                          She is not    interested   

in us

or the story      of why

I am choosing                         this—)

But I am     making out

a check             she won’t accept            you

are somewhere             in the great

Northwest    doing Saturday     things

what if I             had you    

pressing sheets            what if I refuse            

to launder

everything             you once knew           

            Your confession   

you didn’t            get me    rolled into            

you did

This isn’t fiction

            red not always

tumbling clean   

What if your eyes were            

on my hands   like then           

and I didn’t fold