like rain through sweetness
  uttered above in
  steep vertical,
  
  i am many arms
       many fingers
       many feet
       many eyes

       many arms of stems
       that graze the wide-eyed
       morning are my arms
  
       many fingers of grass
       weighted by dew's
       volatile stupor -
       my hands and a sea of
       touch alone wired
       to the same rain's phalanges

       many feet of dancers
       through vertiginous music
       as the moon, our audience,
       peers through the window
       don moonlight or no light
            at all

       and in the same proscenium
       are many anonymous eyes
       for stars,
       of many lovers,
       in becoming one from
       the manifold of love's
       surging amplitude,
      

       my love has made my form,
        and these are my
          movements.