For Her 

On the hot roof top 
Where I examined myself under the shadowless 
and eyewatering sweat of the white sun and air. 
I waited my lifetime for her. 
Each day she showed her leg 
Stretched out stories below me 
And stepped into my view out of the ground floor door. 
I strained against her pull and the railing 
to lean over that ledge and drop a tear for her. 
I followed the tear down. 
Falling by that strength natural 
to the earth, like cupid's arrow 
gone home in perverted thought. 
And my tear hit softly her passing cheek. 
And I moaned her sweet name 
As my lips passed her tear stained face. 
And head first 
I flattened dead to the rocky pavement 
Under her next step. 

Zach Stern, Charlottesville, Virginia, 1980