Music for Buses - VIII

Suppose

That your sigh

Cascaded through the light

Of frightened stars

And lifted entire galaxies

From their perch-

That would be the softness

Of seeing you awake

In the morning-

The serene disruption of

Meadows-

The cataclysmic touch of

Life

That floods and caresses

The luminous revelation

Of your face.

-Arturo Vasquez