rarely now, i dream
of being loved
amidst mounds of white flowers
crossing seven rainbows
and bending the four winds
to sounds
unknown in any language

the shape of love
is unmapped in any geometry

i once loved you
beneath a cobalt sky
with its first visible stars

last night i dreamed you held me
as shadows lengthened in proportion
to the shortening of the days
until there was nothing left
but etchings and lines
in pen and ink

the lowering heavens
crumbled and fell
into the space
where passions are measured only
by their inexpressible intensities

i don't often let myself remember
how it felt to believe i was loved--

it was the second-best part of my life
that carried the beat of my heart