Green and Incandescent
Emeralds land in between
You and I
It swells and creeps and sweeps
These branches
And the garden
It’s vines suffocate like hands
Clasped at the throat
Of this house

When I owned the moon,
love songs made me swoon,
and birds rejoiced in magic,
but I dropped the ball,
a fumbl-
            ing

            fall.
Now all they sing is tragic.