unfurled in all her longing and
hair done up in ribbons,
she moved through each moment
like fronds in the pool.
when questioned so thoroughly
her eyes cast (unwittingly)
spells through a mired mind
and devoured every last of your breath.
who could open umbrellas in wind or
in sun and who could put a single arm
around everyone, but the girl who
stole your last step from the dance?
in pearls of spring drops, she sees him again
and sink, oh sink, when her light shines away
from that puddle darkly forming
at the ends of your toes; all tears.
sink, oh sink, in deep utter shame
her mouth could move mountains
but she does not speak (or even look)
to the goats in the crags anymore.