Waves plunder the shore,
Describable by their frequency and strength
They have passed through this plane for eons
An infinite sequence—they will do so for eons more.
What function must they etch into the sand,
Into rock and the life here? What shall we converge to when the sea has done its work?

I cannot view your motivating terms—
I see only what’s in front of me. This flat and
Fixed interpretation, dependent on time
I will continue to fathom what I cannot see,
And hope so much is there.
Riding on a complex plane,

Interesting little circuits
Configured like a brain, perhaps.
Little nascent impulses, like twitches
Begin your creature-breath in 5-volt lines
The nervous system of a small and simple existence
And the factory printers, “your warm mother”

When I pull the plug I watch your light go out slowly
But then a sputter, a dying breath, and a small pop
Like I watched your soul fly out from my hands,
Tethered by this umbilical, copper embrace

Such a gentle creature
In body, mind, soul
I want to …
I want to eat you whole
Moon shaped iris with its
Prescious little crescent roll

In a dream your iris
Continues to expand
And the eerie pool
Of reflective and sweetened darkness
Spills over, outward, everywhere

I could walk, now
Into the trees
And have a place to rest

Make my body a branch
Curled ‘midst moldy bark
Returning into nothing again

As nature, I could just be
And watch birds
Feel the grass
And be okay

“What’s the occasion?” “It’s for a friend.”

I am full.
Raptured in your iris silk.

I could retreat there, for eternity. Back to dark.

I felt your voice
Through your skin
In the nape tucked deep beneath
My palm
Your throat at peace
Mine, dry.

I hear crickets, cicadas, breeze
My childhood song
And I feel wholly myself,
In the damp air.

…

The leaves
Stare toward me
In the moonlight.

The branches dance at once, together
To a song beneath the air.

I wonder what they would say about me.
I’m not here, in the night.
Only my childhood song.

And I wish to meet you.

The light beckons golden in your iris
The arc iridescent, for I
Never thought about their color
When the sunlight danced
On your skin