winter

it's good to lie down empty--in the summer

the sky itself will come down to fill you

with Draco arching in dim outline

above you

--but I saw you in the winter

when I was already full

and dark cut across us

and we stood apart

each silent and solid

under the still, thundering

dome of the moon

and the words passed

between us

like a distant echo

--I hear laughter in the night

wild and jagged as the outline of the palms

I think I wish you're hearing

the murmuring of the leaves

if I must be alone when I'm open

I'd wish the soft rustling

the spice on the breeze,

drift in the corners of your soul