To Emily
An arch tightens
in the distance
brimming with strings of fire
which bind word by word
like hooks
biting red
I go up like balloons
to the sun\'s swarm
with a honey lollipop
and I spread it\'s drops
over a rhythm of columns
you laugh a white dove
and stone mourns
water on water:
a rain of coins
we eat oranges, in the patio,
between the tiles
a guitar sings blue
when my wet hand rolls
all over your dress
a woman is crying daffodils
I pick and gather some
to lay on your breath
as in a splintered swing
walking the Jewish neighborhood
is like stepping on a ghost
while the scent of tea
lingers in your hair
and a moon of salt
hits and hits against the walls
your eyes are happy
overflowing green
like lemonade
always my dark song
turns the cypress trees
Everything is a plastic straw spinning in the wind.