She had enormous wings, he could imagine,
how light it would to soar up and view
the world as one,  from above the clouds
that would make her feel blessed an envied
celestial being still walking firm footed on earth.
"Have you ever dreamed flying" he asked her
in a matter of fact way, concealing the wonder
the wings caused, but her words made him
think how strange the world is, she wasn't
aware of the gift of wings, pure white, delicate,
sturdy all the same, but the wings were not
a reality she appreciated, hasn't it ever come
to her notice? He looked in to the silence
of her eyes, was she keeping it as a secret?

Her wings were thin, shining silver petals
a rare flower, with a scent wafting everywhere
but by some quirk of fate, it wasn't there for her.

Her feet rose and fell
between fields of paddy

the grass bowed
then looked up on her way.

If only she had wings
and the winds carried her to her sister
she could land right on the yard of her hut
and take her home by the return flight
but her mind soared no less
so before the sun favored the west
she was right by her
laughing and talking like the yore
with only a line of vermilion
that she felt had come between them.

Soon she looked around
and making sure no one was watching
brought out from her skirt a mango.

She gave it to her like
she was giving a piece of her heart
plump yellow green
with the most delicious nectar hidden within
and when she narrowed her lips
to drink from the gift
her tears poured like the summer rain
mingling with the cries of the parched earth.

I remember when every shadow I saw was her
A blurry eyed vision
A colorless shape without edges
An energy I could feel
Always present
I remember how her hands would touch me
Softly leaving their mark
She wrote her name on a wall
In black marker
Then she carved it in stone
I remember when she loved me as I love her
Her ephemeral love
Her phantasmal touch
Her promise
To always be there in my darkness
I remember when she was behind me and in front of me

I cannot forget

I remember when she loved me
As a ghost can only love a tortured soul
As the spirit loves the flesh
My flesh torn by her fingernails
Her calling my name
I remember how she left me

I cannot forget

My ghost
Fell into the shadows
And disappeared
Gone
I don't know where she is
But I know
My ghost with love so sweet
If she's not haunting me
She haunts another

Your sight, stops my heart,
The moment next, makes it dash,
One killer doctor!

Blue as the geography
of footprints across the dunes
quiet as the white music
of a silent moon
like the wind blowing
the soul off the water
the shadows go out
and are lost in the evening
I conclude the hypothesis
of sundown making no sound
while night climbs the vines
where lowing sadness abides
the ritual of tides pulls me under.