Paper flowers
Night air
And the spidery clumping thistle
Of veins on your leg that your fingertips worry at
Charcoal fires and moving fabrics
Are we at a crossroads?
You look down at your lightness
Birds flap across the dusky sky
Landing with flapping spasms of the black wings
On the ropes of cloth scraps hanging laden over our heads
Fading primary colors, dry prayers--for what?
Eyelashes flutter against soft skin
Like the moths in the haze of nightfall
And your voice continues, low and rough
And your fingers dance on your leg
Transience, and your hushed voice
Glancing all around you
The straw of my hat, the crackle of flames
I throw it in to see the explosion of sparks and your widened eyes
Where are we? The strips of muggy clouds
Hang hazy and bluish over the mountains
As if once night falls the storm will break
Are we passing through
Or are we ending?
You are adrift, and I am waiting
To take you into my arms.