Corn sprouted from dry ground
Reaching upward toward an Iowa sunset
I grew there too, hiding among the husks

But somehow you found me
My eyes camouflaged with the sky
And we intertwined
Like roots in the Iowa ground
Where love comes resting like a firefly
In purple dusk, unrelenting in its nonchalance
And gone with a blink

You held me there under the stars
Strewn across the sky not yet tamed by city lights
We made our beds with husks
Before waltzing to a sonnet while our toes curled
Recoiling from the surprising warmth in the dust below

We constructed fairy homes out of twigs
And built our life in the dirt
Below the green pointing upward
To where we took the names of our children
Andromeda after the star
And George after your father

We splashed inelegantly
Ignoring the lack of water for miles
Except that water buried deep
And running through our veins
Fresh like this Iowa night and cool, interstellar breaths
We could swear we felt the universe breathe with us

I noticed a heart on the ground
Beating and fully constructed
Which once was shattered, scattered
A piece on a New York street
And one in a puddle on Chicago's South Side

One grew comfortable where the sidewalk hits the grass
In the suburban dreamscape I called home
With a neighbor in an indefinite downtown

One, the largest part, rested in small town Pennsylvania
Where Miss American Pie sits lofty on a throne
Of nevermore and forgotten moments
Lit by fireflies and youthful eyes

The rest had floated on
To settle in backyard ponds and taxicab furrows
And cornfields, swaddled in sunsets
The same sunsets that flattened us
Laughing on corn husks and the meaninglessness of numbered days
While the wind played a lullaby which you called our song

I spent these days catching rainbows in dream-catchers
And I forgot to wake up
Choosing instead to spend my days
With your hair the color of Iowa and dawn