a raw, summer star upon your eyelid,
a crushed grass-blade beneath your heel
the remnants of a dewdrop that clingss to your shoe
a bruise of sky on your chin

the initial sum of everything

you hold an eclipse between your fingers,
like a thin volume of love songs
a shooting star twisted into your lashes
the shape of a song that trickles down your lips
and circles your throat

the growing sum of everything

there is a crater between your brow,
and, the evening’s sketched onto your arm
mingling with the saffron of dawn on your forehead
this rendezvous of light on your being

the combined sum of everything

a shooting star chisels a verse,
picks up your wrinkles, and your clinging scars
arranging them onto the expanse of your cheek
till they read like a poem
something like a poem

the ultimate sum of everything