I return to the grass, its habit
of hissing at me. My flowers fall open
before the land. My invisible turbulence resounds.
A mean wind takes up again—how does it know?
I carry you with me (in my heart),
warm all the ways I wind with you in mind.
Trees shake, jays gossip. I attempt the hill.
Winded, I attempt beyond myself
to a new woman. Evergreen, reaching every needle
out to immerse the world, feel every mote encompass.
Everything you send through me.
I see your eyes again—instant sea and sorrow-bearing birds
upon it, thrilling ships cascading through currents.
You give it all to me. There’s no new way to say it:
You heat me, have me, keep me in mind.
We forget so much: the molten core, insects turning the earth
underfoot, thin pop of stone fruit as the skin breaks,
flesh rushing forward, bringing pleasure to your lips.