the basilica dome
is obscured by various antennae,
leads laced and looped/ hanging
down the apartment block like vines, or
jackets thrown listlessly over shoulders
and bird-like legs
traipsing down an alley as the sun creeps in,
cool and pink milky-blue.
heads just moving; circling, pushing. daisies quiver in the
grass, gravitating, reaching toward one another with little stringy-petalled
limbs.
they are silent and gentle/
their fingers interlock above them. clench
and then slow and still again, a pond.
i watch him in the side mirror. my thumb is stained with a
band of green. his eyes are deep and blue –
i am full tonight.