* * *
For an instant, flat space lied behind your eyes,
the flame glared in its own face,
pure illumination.
Now youre gone.
What have I left to pledge my love to?
Blank space streaked with silver.
Soft sand lines washed out at the sea,
I fall lower.
A glass ball on a fine string of wire
would scatter to the elements from which it started.
Gyres and circling cones
call me to abandon myself of the earth.
Everything grinding to its halt,
your image comes in slow frames.
My heart would flow away and melt in the sun.
The flower in your hair is tied to my heart,
