The Interrogation of the Man of Many Hearts

Who's she,
that one in your arms?

she's the one I carried my bones to
and built a house that was just a cot
and built a life that was over an hour
and built a castle where no one lives
and built, in the end, a song
to go with ceremony.

A man of many hearts?
why then do you tremble at my doorway?
A man of many hearts does not need me.

I'm caught in the dye of her.
I have allowed you to catch me red-handed,
catch me with my wild oats in a wild clock
for my mare, my dove and my own clean body.
The love of the woman is in the song.
I called her the woman in red.
I called her the girl in pink.
but she was ten colors
and ten women.
I could hardly name her.