It was a day of raucous sun

            And subtle flourishes, of

            Wine that spilled into

            A delicate embrace

            A day of hush and 

            Boisterous eyelids,

            Mischievous shade

            When the dense geography of

            Desire unspooled like rivulets

            After a mountain snow

            And the music of the hollows

            Rang an unanticipated beat

            When all the old untrusted words

            Glowed few like burnished shells

            In the penumbra of our breath 

            And all the solemn gathering

            Grief, the taut and

            Unforgiving skin of dearth, 

            The blinding scent of

            Absence and the necessary

            Creep into fatigue – 

            They couldn’t touch, not yet,

            Not even the division into

            One among as night approached