[ imagined ancient love poems ]
MY LIPS are shy,
like a candle that will not flicker.
I WOULD twist my arms like coral
if that made them delicate enough to hold you.
COLOR IS sleeping in some birds
when the sun is too early
to make use of it.
THE SEASON is yet unlit
by the glint of the sewing needle.
The thread is stored away, the light
is an unwoven shirt.
I EMBRACED YOU by mistake
when I was only trying to caress you.
Now you love me.
WE CAME across a hunter disguised as a bird.
The towns pay these lords for protection. This is revealed
in a parable the women tell. They speak of a rose
that grew in the desert from a drop of blood.
WHO ARE you going to meet tonight
in the tall grass
where even snakes cannot find each other?
Your bare feet
will be the safest part of you.
CLAY pots, shaped from the inside
like a sun
when the sky was spinning.