STORY IN A GARDEN

You’re gliding in the dim second rainbow.

I sit quietly exhausted, beholding

the first black kite sweeping the sky.

How proud it looks,

every lightbeam its mirror.

This world hasn’t claimed your inverted shadow.

It would be what’s left of the dreamland from your black honeygarden,

the dreamland where you sip honey from the garden of my arms.

This moment in my world

the noise of traffic builds

and the story of the leaf wolf awaits to love you.

I await only our separation,

when the first bundle of your own light

cuts, the wound to remind us

how deeply we were joined once.

Close as the colors banded in the second rainbow

speaking the world’s pained sweetness.

Like the first black kite swept in sunlight,

its inverted shadow at once enfolding everything.