Islands.
"Wherever I look you are islands.
A constellation of flowers breathing on the sea.
Deep forested islands mountainous, and fragrant.
Fires on a bright ocean.
At the root, one fire.
All my life I have wanted to touch your ankle running down
to its shore.
I beached myself on you.
I listen.
I see you among still leaves.
Regard of rockpool by sun, and moon, and stars.
Island waterfalls and their echoes
are your voice, your shoulders, the whole of you standing.
And you turn to me as though your feet were in mist.
Flowers, birds, same colors as your breath.
The flowers deliberately smell of you
and the birds make their feathers
not to fly but to feel of you."