Persephone at the Farmer's Market
Departing Phoenix
The Lonelier Moon
Dias de los Muertos
Movie House
Canaries
Gacela of a Wedding Day
Her Constellations
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Her
Constellations
I read with fingers the constellations,
spray of brown stars across her shoulders.
With eagerness I consume her myths,
tales locked within each starry figure.
Eleven sparrows sing of deliverance
fleeing a mad king’s desire for wings;
their small bodies huddle in the brush,
brace for the rush of winter snow.
A wide sea of fish stretch
from the stem of her spine
to the moonlight of her cheek:
angels, clowns, butterflies.
Always there are seeds and flowers;
her body a garden of petals, perfumes
nourished by blue rivers running deep
beneath the night of her skin.
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