i imagine that her tears evaporate into pieces of the sky & her eyelashes against the shell of an ear
tickle as they shudder against a million rippling bumps of gooseflesh

the white of knuckles would betray my illusion of self-control until her voice rests where it is most at home
that is, breezing among sprigs at our heads & feet that shiver against one another

a vestige of our bodies, when we stand, embosses the soil, reminding of how i gazed behind lidded eyes
(which could not otherwise withstand the sight or rather the glow)

& now my shadow returns its finger to lips curving upwards;
after all she did promise a smile