Fallen Petals (Love Poem)
To lose you, it is nothing to lose you,
to stand only in the rain of you,
the rain that falls only from you,
from the bottom of your hair.
To lose you in the deep yellow
of wild anise, to lose you, to climb
down your heavy rain, it is nothing.
And to touch you, the rim and depth
of you, the lightest fold, the darkest hair,
the beating wing of the skin we can never see.
To lose you, and to be raised in the absence
of you, into the rain that replaces you, the pleasure
that precedes and surpasses either of us. It is nothing
to lose you, and to speak with you as it happens,
to sense the years grown toward this one loss
complete themselves as we talk. And to run
my hands over you, to let my hands
drift over your eyes and over your back
which is like a powerful sunflower stalk
from which it seems your body opens.