She's just suggested by the color of

She's just suggested by the color of
the light that rises. I think about the Sun
and how it moves, how the old rishi tracked
her movements. Think of all the scattered phonemes

in the past, the ripples on the ocean
that are the Buddha's sutras. I look out
into the distance, see the dim horizon
lose its color. The little flecks of light

that reflect from her eyes, the way her thigh
is of a certain texture. I can feel
her gaze the way the pastures feel the light

that pours through the blue clouds. She is suggested
by disordered vowels, I become impressed
by her form though I do not know its limits.