What if the atmosphere is full of fossilized, vestigial remnants of love?
— Foxes in Love
I have two hands so I can scruff both sides of your beard at the same time.
I have two hands so I can stop on the sidewalk,
turn to face you, take
your two hands in mine and spin
within the ghosts
of all the love
that has walked through these streets.
I have two hands so
in the dissolving atmosphere
I can close my fist and squeeze
and squeeze and roll a marble
across the crease
where your left heart line meets the right.
Spring as witnessed by the cardinals and lilacs
I was alive yesterday; where were you? Preparing to take our last walk, to become the season the cardinals settle in to.
The lilacs want to tell you something. I tuck a sprig behind your ear so you won’t miss a word.