there is only before

and after her--gone in

what the heart can not

demarcate.

as a spanless body of water won't

sign the alias of ocean, to point

to itself.

the ever presence of

life to the ever presence

of death.

full in full, nectar to the air

of a flower--whose beauty

terrifies by its resolve.

a single burst in the throes of joy, staying

that openness in a petaled world

of wilt.

her name every one named with

the sound of scent, in the sight of

color.