in a large bowl, dissolve yeast and
1/2 teaspoon sugar in warm water; let
stand until bubbles form on surface.
infinite dreams begin in a
transparent solitude of diffused
light and agile essence, so
begin with your eyes closed
and pray to aphrodite in her
suckling sweet-wander.
whisk together remaining 3
tablespoons sugar, salt, and 3 cups flour.
stir oil into yeast mixture;
she may answer with a sigh
and move the crowns of three
skies upon your head,
that you may entwine and commune
with her and your lover altogether,
and thrice be enchorused.
pour into flour mixture and
beat until smooth. stir in enough remaining
flour, 1/2 cup at a time, to form a soft dough.
you will soon discover the apt ratifying
that comes of heart-fiber and soul-fate when
your lover and you,
foam-covered and now
so engaged, make a natural
peace among the enemies.
turn onto a floured surface; knead
until smooth and
elastic, 8-10 minutes.
the syllables upon your tongues
will engage in something green
and drowsy, as when dreams come,
and the melodies of the moon
will harp, and the hum of the
seas will float you.
place in a greased bowl, turning once to
grease the top. cover and let rise in a
warm place until doubled, about 1-1/2 to 2 hours.
growth comes with the agitation
of your blended existence and
from that an inclination
and desire to say, in a quivering
voice at night, when entwined,
something secret.
punch dough down. turn onto a lightly
floured surface; divide dough in half
shape each into a loaf.
hands on the flesh of hungry
hands, fingers within the
fingers of uninhibited dawn,
legs lapping legs and
lips licking at lips
until the earth trembles.
place in 2 greased 9x5-in. loaf pans.
cover and let rise until
doubled, about 1 to 1-1/2 hours.
time is perforated by time,
and set to the time-keepers
who keep it all hidden,
because we are not ready
for love, ever, and we are
not ready for life.
bake at 375° until golden brown and bread sounds
hollow when tapped or has reached an internal
temperature of 200°, 30-35 minutes.
silence bleeds us out, but
the sounds of love are varied
and primal
and mark us for whatever
destinies she can afford,
lessly dressed and naked by half.
remove from pans to wire racks to cool.
let love sit and rest and
let love be love and linger
in the shadows of our hearts
so that, when it is time,
we break bread - without the burn
of lost loves - but with the lovers who rise.
