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