The Elegance of a Simple Soul

Utterly out of place        a sloth in a dark café

movements too slow to be noticed

a glass of port slips from her grip

the pristine explosion at her feet

in her hair        in the lamplight

everywhere        inlaid

an instant dissolves        and in the next

still alit        walking uneven

through a door        onto the street

before she stops to fall

    First the moon

then the wall        first a pale light

then your nape        the high cheekbone

a perfect fit        part of you

on the wall        one side dark

one side glowing        part of you

deep in bloom        one stone here

one stone gone        you feel no loss

dew is breathing        through your skin

the courtyard’s        empty

a waning gibbous        sole witness

to your flight        and fall