along a quiet road at the beginning of time
i happened upon her: a poem
in the shape of human bones,
of flesh colored like a morning tumble in warm sand
touched to clear amber in her eyes.
i had walked miles in another man’s shoes by then
and forgotten who i might have become,
but it didn’t matter
because when she rose before me in newborn copper hues
and brown sugar,
i knew everything that i would never be,
and that is all that i have thought of since.
(i have broken every mirror between here and my soul.)