Our honeymoon He planted us by Water. It was March. The moon Lurched like searchlights, like His murmurings across my brain— He had to have his way. As down The beach the wet wind Snored…I want My innocence. I see My family frozen in the doorway Now, unchanged, unchanged. Their rice congeals Around his car. He locked our bedroll In the trunk for laughs, later, at the deep End. Rockaway. He reaches for me in his sleep.