The willow drank my name from silver rain,
yet left my thirst to bloom in salted mist;
Love hummed through wormholes stitched with shadowed pain,
and kissed me once, then marked me as a list.

I chased her echo through a coral field,
where seabirds wrote in cursive on the wind;
My ribs unzipped, a galaxy revealed
a void where all my wanting had been pinned.

She danced like Saturn's ring across my sleep,
then vanished in the hush of Neptune's yawn;
I held her in the roots of stars too deep
to bloom before the hour love is gone.

So still I orbit songs I never knew
and dream of being real inside her blue.