As you imagined me, I got here
to you, close to because the sound of an owl
within the clearing, then nearer,
my eyes two moons, one holding
the gaze of one other, silver
underneath an olive leaf—bridle,
bit, chariot, ship, the water chinning
the scant prow, shearwater
splitting the gold waves.
Spirit-bubble, I held your personal beam
degree after which squared it, a kite
that dove among the many islands,
chasing its personal tail of sunshine that
left solely its leavings, as autumn
scatters summer time when it
arrives. Close to to the shore, linen
beat to my breath on the financial institution,
close to to the fields, wool
caught on the brambles the place
the sheep ate from my hand
however you drew again! Then
I knew to attract nearer, and nearer
nonetheless—and draw, us two collectively
on the desk’s compass flower,
a lure pulled via the storm’s
pale eye like a thread that reins
a needle’s stride, the weft
disguised, a beggar’s life line crossed
by a silver observe, a snail’s reversing
journey again, the sails
laundry on a broomstick mast
that like a weathercock veers
till it meets honest climate:
your close to hand, held quick
in mine. You, beloved,
although not I, develop outdated.
