Untitled 2

Though her forward facing image
Drifts
Steadily away from unfolded arms,
A sweetness
Foreign to heart
Is found
In the distance that divides
Like rising water in a porcelain tub.
Knowledge of Time,
Ever
Pulling
On our stopper,
Makes a bold mind
Mute of tongue
And sends urgency
Through breathless lips that long
For hers.
If steam from glances
Could fog mirrors
On which to write subtle poetry,
Crisp mountain air
Would abruptly erase
What fingers
Retrace
To bring her home again.
And though her forward facing image
Drifts
Steadily away from unfolded arms,
A calm
Familiar to heart
Can be found
In the way brown hair
Spills over a sleeping shoulder
Like water wept from basin’s edge.
Found in waking eyes
That address his blue horizon
With a meadow of lusty green
And fashioned memories that slake
Spaces left unoccupied
From a life
Before he knew her.

For-S