28 FULL MOONS OF A MOMENT

That moment of a few years
suddenly evaporates
and leaves a residue
of memories here and there
places in and out
and spaces tight and wide.
But it is not
that singsong sway
of long sighs and
held breaths
that make up that moment,
but the heartbeat
that was felt
through hands not held
and thoughts unshared
–a pulse that was evident
only when it was gone.
A window opens,
and through it shines
moonbeams that outline
your unmoving figure,
to me, a pale ghost,
looking at me
looking away.
Say cactus, say moon,
Say stars and sunlight,
Say snakes and dragons,
Leaves and petals,
Say my name, your name,
And ours together
One last time,
For in my hand, I have,
dried in moonlight,
a burnt stretch of snakeskin
for that pair of shoes
you’ve asked of me
that I shall never make
regrettably.