to picture

how the afternoon

lines up and goes down the path and puts

the tires on the asphalt

it’s me under a blanket stretched out

you lay a kiss on my cheek before running away

as the trees in the window

wave their slow hellos

the red flowers may have died

but the purple one is just blooming

and the light smell of linden

while a candle burns on the table

an oval wooden tan

whose curved legs curl carpet

and each bit of sun

that enters the room

hides near you

we connect eyes for a look

and smile

and we are

intertwined essences