She was within airspace of all my words,
hunted them in the Arabic script of bats.
She was an early Aries, firstborn in the zodiac.
With her it never hurt to enter the animal.
She was a wrangler of galaxies,
could clear the sky of light pollution.
It was as if we never told each other no
& all beings granted her sovereignty.
Chinook winds left icefalls alone
when she snowed. She was
silknet & trillium.
I was always her amulet.
She was the tiebreaker, the arbiter of boundary wars,
the choreographer of misrule.
That pictograph on the cave wall wasn’t rust. It was her.
Her lips magma petals on my glass,
tang & blade music she spoke.
She was taiga & tidal.
She was every immersion of Ganesh.
I had to stop my future self from birthing
without her. She told me
what she never spoke of.
She was proof of summer solstice
& upward rain. My falling palms
bound by her lariat of air.
We shared the canyon. In every flight song
her soprano was the condor’s missing voice box.

From Confrontation 121, Spring 2017.