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somewhere in the space of forever

you and I went out on a wilding path,

a late path laid down

when the belled moon was just one speck

in the dust conceived

for our skies - you and I made a pillow

out of sighs; you and I made a pillow

out of ideas both arriving and alighting,

somewhere in that space of forever,

and of choices unrequired. blue, the ground

where you laid me - blue, the ground

of your skin -

of your folded and many-aching skin!

and white,

the intimate pinch of it! o,

the blank statement of those clouds -

even the moon changed its tingling then,

and all around the cotton undergrowth was ripe

for turning -

and was turning, turning.