A Prophecy Returns

A photo in a violet frame

for her granddaughter fifty years hence:

“My grandma was very beautiful

at my age, more beautiful than I am, and proud.”

A sweet prophecy from then

returns on its circular way from the future to me:

that’s how I fell in love with you.

I see you from the side:

a trembling of lashes and eyebrows, like

the trembling of a wing, in the angle

between brow and cheek, the eye nests like a bird.

Your whole body is a sweet clamorous nesting:

from head to toe

many warm nests.