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.)