An illusory thing I'm sure
I doubt your reality
Your flesh

Eyes like something else I've seen
and unlike anything I could ever produce

The movements of your limbs…
you must have pioneered gracefulness
Traveled through lengthy storms
mountains, swept past glaciers

Red-cheeked Eskimo man
breath coming out in airy drifts
the cool notes of your voice
half remembering, wishing…

encapsulated within summer memory
that will last and last
out last itself until time turns over, surrenders
And accepts the universe for what it is:

A silent implosion
A beautiful confusion of colliding bodies