The curving fingers of her open hand
receive the pouring water. She had put
her lips up to mine and her extended foot
pointed its toe out. The broad, rolling land
extended toward the horizon, a yellow band
was wrapped around her finger and the roots
of trees became restricted. The new shoots
of young flowers or the way that she stands
in the warm Sun on her toes. Her white arms
and shoulders, look how the rain just begs
for the earth to receive it. I'm the storm
we can't make sense of, a rhetorically vague
argument. Lo! the muscles of her firm
stomach are flexing as she lifts her leg.
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