Lover, see how the fire is moving up
and the water moving down? How the known
universe confounds us, how we are thrown
through grammars without reason? In the cup
of light that is the Moon the tide of ships
is reflected. Somehow I am still drawn
to her celestial body, the hanging gown
of clouds that obscures it. I feel a drop
of rain, a teardrop that my beloved left
on her rising breast. The movement of straight
hair in the whirling wind, the boat drifts
on the open ocean as the dim twilight
sets quietly. The wanderings of a craft
that doesn't know its left from its right.
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