I am jealous of the sand

beneath you
around you
what you see

bright things erased lady
sparkling and traveling without luggage
liquidity
before X
you are tattooed on my back music
dies down

I too grew up in
the soft hands
of the gods

and a little donkey will lead them

Tears, tears, and I know
just what they mean
honeysuckles at night

I wrote this poem for you and haven't lost it