A lovely girl
when she smiles it is like the world is rent and light bursts through
she takes my breath away with her thin, flickered wrists and how the tip of her tongue is used as signal
for her mood
no ink permanent enough to score
her mark upon my soul
like first cherry blossom, fragile in the cold, endures
a hundred lifetimes could pass and wouldn’t be sufficient
to show the depth of my attachment to her
two skaters on frozen lake, cutting eights over each other’s traversed shapes
I finish where she starts and begin at her end, to each the other, ascending like fireworks in indigo wash
when I hold her preciously against myself and hear the softness of time pushing past
a pain seizes my courage, to imagine myself without her is impossible
lift my chin, you’ll see her in my eyes, her reflection, her electric movement
it is said, do not rely upon another, for you will bear their loss
I do not know how to separate myself, we are woven, we are of the same material
cut with the same scissors and fashioned into human cloth
they left a part connected, a tug I feel when she is far
like a fistful of light, she once burned so bright I saw only her outline
if she was free, she’d still slip away, into the night just before herald of day
leaving her perfume and perfect sigh, she’d gleam, in midsummer eve
lingering through opened windows and flung hands taunting, the day to never end
she is a girl with eyes from the ocean, there are invisible lines leading me back
to her slim clavical and the motion of her sleeping dance
she wakens me in a dream, I am not able to feel deeply
without her muse, she has the gentle spirit and I am fired to chase her
through bluebells, and thin white trees, cupping their hands of green
worshipping without words