I saw you that day when
the end of you was the only thing in your way.
Your undulating wrinkles softened the rocks, and I caught sight
(maybe just a glimpse) of music gingerly stroking your neck,
and you were beautiful.

On the Cliffs of Moher you stood two feet calm
atop a fire you had built as a pedestal for yourself
and all your wantings.
The time was droll, playing ribbons up the backs of your knees
and as I watched you ( me, wide eyed and heart so full of wonder it hushed itself to cease to beat)
I cried.

Your stories of arms threw hyacinths to the ebbing tide,
and the breathing of the earth was left impatient.

For a moment you took to dreaming,
and your eyes filled with alabaster love.
You remembered your brother, a radiating mass of
muscle and joy; how you once vowed
to save the world together. You remembered her, your pearl,
your human nightingale with wings in her mind, how she used to steal the wind
and hold its sweet smell hostage to sing your baby lullabys.

I saw you that day.
I Saw you that day.
I saw You that day.
In your face there was a secret and I knew it to be remarkable.

The Hum of your pumping lungs set my fingertips dancing from
the Drum of your aching prayer.
The Hum of your smiling skin left me breathless and heaving through un-clenched teeth to the beat of
the Drum to your star fixed gaze.
The Hum of your words reeling through the cracks in the sky to tune the wind with
the Drum of your hands on your chest.

And in this song you moved. A manmountain in the shape of pieces.
The world lept from its axis and ran to your side. "Oh! " you cried.
"Oh, for just a lapse in the root of time. I don't care for the meaning
of it all, I only want back my rhyme!"

I was still as you dripped into the cliff. You fell
knee, knee, hands to your head and head to your feet.
In this moment you were incompletely complete.
And I saw you,
and you were beautiful.