we pause—
winter’s broken-skin,
desperate lovers, and dry heat,

“how do you want me?”

breathing slows,
so does time.
you touch my face,
my skin flaking,
like falling snow—
but you can see the nature in it.

your left eye’s
ablaze:
iris, amber, a swirling cosmos
the oldest known living sun

imperfect edges
vibrating with foreverness,
telling the same story
in your hundred-year hands.

i wonder if we’re the first two people
to ever fall in love.

finish inside—

-

for in a few weeks you’ll unlearn me
under the Mexico sun.