Go
With me
Where the winds of grain
May breathe
Small atoms of woven gold
So that I may lose my own.
With the oxygen you’ve gilded
Filling our lungs—may I dazzle like you?
Two creations intervene—We are the constellations
The spider webs you see
How paltry and few
The stars, they seem
I cast them off, they sickly gleam
To fill my sky
With you.