I have given you my mouth
and you have given me the night.
Wet, scent, petals and lips,
the gift of an open gate.
a small fire in the darkness
as if approaching a wild animal, a deer
or a sleeping fox
move quietly.
enter with awe.
A woman drawn back to the sea,
shores her elder’s left
searching for seeds they carried
she chases the intoxicating flowers to the corners
of the earth, the ones that spin
a fury of fire in the body
and turn the eyes to God.