My legs, two stalks of cattail swinging, against the amber yellow sun
are the single stability between us,
thin as a piece of green pastel,
the pestle and the mortar we've taken root in

fragility and so, you've got my hand
three four steps ahead
pulling us into a run my shoulder joint disagrees with
and over it, you're tossing grenades,
indifference which snaps at my feet
boiling the need to catch you.
You are my pond, my soil, my still of day
and still
beneath your palm I am a blossom, a
girlish petal pining in your breeze.

You're making a great circle around my Earth,
my green-blue sphere,
baby, you trickle sweet Carolina gold satelite-honey, daffodil swans snaking
through your orbit
while snatches of caramel pool between my lips.
such a tease
spinning those slender hips a sliver above my atmosphere
so that my fingers just brush the frills
of your skirt.
You push up between Orion and the hilt of his sword
tossing taunt eyes toward my galaxy.
I'm wide, I'm intergalactic,
I've got stars in the back of my throat,
electric and running hot for you.