That I would hold you in place,
While earth spins beneath your elevation.
That I would seek you in darkness,
Amidst wolves, in woods, on wind.
That I would weave your name
With wet reeds and bendable words.
That I would mix your bones in loose soil
Plant orchids and stargazers.
That I would dress you in morning
Sunrise draped on your arms like lace.
That I would know you as I know myself,
Feel your blood pump in the valleys of my wrists.
Is it enough that I would lie prostrate in your temples?