Her tiny breasts, dancers curved back
Silver earrings, steel grey hair, wet black eyes
We talk around, our varied folded desires
Hers may be, driving home in dusty truck to
A brown man who works with his hands
He can lift her and they dance at dusk, beneath solstice blossom
She feels she’s come a long way, her reedy soul throbs
Through back roads with weary curves, street lights illuminating her angular shape
And my desire is a velvet flame, like slow monarch flutters, trying to keep pace with winged migration
She is the swelling of a slow breathing, southern land
Shimmering in undulate mountains
Emptied of life, save thin cayote, sharp against moon
I am low to earth, crawling toward her wrist
Breathing the pulse of a woman, her careful sensuality
Turning in darkness, multilayered
Impossible to tame