prequel to snow

the date book, heart

beating

appointments conspire

each alone

won’t be revisited

the truth is out

until Friday

it’s irony when someday

has meaning

to someone

as if the pathways

to be

lined with trimmed hedges

lead to postponement

lapsed dates

foreborn kisses

a botched proposal

for a hookup

with whitening, trees snap

palling lines

memento

eyebright charge of dreams

made in light’s image

though light doesn’t know

what it wants

the hermit’s vows

an empty future

in accord

let us begin with pleasure

right straight lines

until it hits morning

then lost to the color

directly behind sandalwood

hibiscus

shading a flush horizon

kitesilk

that makes body be born

in eggshell form

a holiness risen

so pressed upon we taste

and see

feelings miles apart

small wet salt

a tender helpless kiss

breaks across the islands

soft mauve ware

we press to share

again, with a flick

difference that near

the invaginating detail

beauty shows

is not the only dimension

see through woods

to the crèche

a zero sky

from where angels

fathom depth

I want nothing

nothing but their touch

to change dust

back to dust in the breath

in the time it takes

to sigh

trailhead leads

pointing with one eye

railing

if it weren’t flat

when you find your way

please hurry

in memory of

sensation

what gravity is

less the wind

than the breath

the thought of breath

a lit match

in a trembling hand

sight without vision

touch of your face

on air