Plan B

, then maybe she would be a black-habit sister, with light glint glasses and sepia string rosary beads
smiling. With birds' hands. But when I look at her, some
rainy sunshine she is my heart a stranger
I do not know. everyone

My prayerful heart tells me: it's that a child's shoe is too sacred and it makes my heart go thrill that longing-thing, because I love

everyone

Sometimes I want, only want: step into the daguerrotype, to kiss an author's tophat.

Red boots, small names and cartography. It's the old sway of
Unicycle dancing (frame-stop whirl!) and
moving sunlight - winter slow!
How fortunate that we find ourselves together now.

They say it is like a big textbook. If't falls it will pin you under it.
Take care, but I kindly disagree. I say my magic comes from the stars.
And someone cares about
someone else.
(Sepia-string rosary beads,
tophats throwing
Frame-stop whirl.)
oh, always.

Some days I feel
such a part of the weather that I am
such a devout Christian, such a gentle pagan.
Oh, I can't decide, I never can in the rainy sunshine.
But how fortunate,
oh how (providential!)
to be here
in the rain with you.