Falling rain and the thunder of cataract—dripping shadows
blue from the depths of the gorge, you appear beside me. Down
of thistles, wet leaves and grass slip over us, chiffon and silk.
We taste ribbons of water. The cracked light of first words
shines on your tongue. Our fingers, whole arms, dip
through transparent layers, solid gone liquid, everything flowing, shining. Luminous, translucent, you shimmer in and out of focus. See
how you mirror me. I believe we are twins. Though you
are new, I imagine we will marry. I will be the riverbed
and you the river. I hold this cup of longing
Toward you, overflowing, and you lean toward me to drink.
Light falls and falls from the sky.