A Zorro Man Maya Angelou

Here
in the wombed room
silk purple drapes
flash a light as subtle
as your hands before
love-making

Here
in the covered lens
I catch a
clitoral image of
your general inhabitation
long and like a
late dawn in winter

Here
this clean mirror
traps me unwillingling
in a gone time
when I was love
and you were booted and brave
and trembling before me.