do you remember

how I made the earth sing

for you?

turning laurels

to crowns,

roses to rosaries

and back again.

you were the tides,

the moon itself

and i sat in your light

composing psalms,

on my knees and

bowed in prayer.

the ones who came before us

worshiped

the rivers that drowned them,

the lava that buried their labors

and maybe this is why I write for you,

maybe this is why I call you holy.

tell me, dearest,

why I fear sharp corners

the curve of your hip,

the turn of your mouth

why I am stagnant clay

unmolded.

tell me why I see you

flashing silver.

as if I am nothing without you,

as if blood is ink and

nothing more.

-this is how

my heart used to beat

for you, twisting rhythms

from heartache.