Still the warm, confusing reality of her
whirls around me like a clock. I am
reminded of her insides, many triangles
made of turquoise hanging from her ears,
her long neck. Jewels and elephants
ornament her frame. She makes a sound
when I breathe on her there, a heavy cloud
looms in the distance. She first made me sing
in libraries about a bright beloved
annihilating all with her brilliance.
Rebirth―her spinning dance brought renaissance
to me, made of me a sure patriarch.
Scattered beads of moisture on her legs
like rhymes―jade, ruby, porcelain.
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