until this second passes.

we stole from the crowd

into the park. the netted swing

i had often passed beneath the

purple skies – it almost looks like

a bed we left unmade. we let the clouds blanket us. the winds have

whispered a song between us. but your hair was rain on my summer

fields like a harp. ah, the symphony when we touch – you are conducting

the rhythm of my heart in three- fourth time. i am waltzing among

the swaying autumn leaves, tainting the pink with its golden tears

(i heard the trees crying winter away but it is spring now in june)

jupiter has joined us. the moon is following behind. but it is only

us beneath – within – this universe and i will name the stars with you

until this second passes.

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First published in Mosaic Literature.