I looked up and I saw
you coming.
I saw the way you
have entered my life in footprints
I had mistaken for music.
The sky began spinning
golden spheres of watercolour globes
melting teardrops upon thick stems.
Life will be water. Life will bleed.
These were the endlessness of
fields wet with gray which unfolds forever.
I saw you raining up from the ocean
from clouds full of darkness.
I pulled your broken bones
from my throat
and we went again hungry.
They were affixing my lashes with feathers:
my eyes became heavy
my eyes became soft.
I saw you coming
and I saw you leave.
I wait for you
counting hymns in silence.
I watch the way sunlight
burns through the trees.
.
.
For Andy
Allison Marie Conway 