though my voice pleaded
in the lower register
you understood that I cared little for
us dollars in a sliding drawer
my body ached for answers
to the french questions
curiosities posed at the flowers
nested carefully in an iris shore
police red & blue
carved out only
the perfect sections of you
lifted them as oxygen
a landscape of parasals
floating to shade
our cooccupied space
could it be that you were
singing tunes
a fleeting foreign language
known only to us two
remnants of affection found under bed spreads
capital cities, asking
where the time went




