Her face opened
In a shudder of birds
Marble mouthed
And reclined in passion
But the strings that wreath her walk
Could wrap me into thunder
The scent of coffee
Cold floors and candles
A white semi spiral staircase
Uncurled into the room
The downstairs, the doorways
Spring in bloom.
Footsteps like raindrops
On an outstretched palm,
Damp smoke eyes,
blue charm.
