These Are the Gifts You Abandoned.

by | May 18, 2011 | Blog, My Poems

Your body
has become the point

where meeting
can no longer

take place—

Your mouth filled with leaves
the day you borrowed
her dress

(covered in small roses)

and threw it
– as if guided by an invisible line –
out over the ocean.

You led her to a place where

you wept over a line
of lily pads,

each accompanied with a frog,

each gliding down the stream
as though it were

a parading cemetery
you had somehow

grown up with—

(their bodies lying as if asleep.)