I was born
in the arms of a
weeping willow
near the edge of a
placid lake.
The day was warm,
and expecting me.
I faced the sun without
question of how it came to
be there, or why the tides
were under the control of
the moon, and not the
sea.
This was thousands of years ago
when I first decided
to take the human
form.

I had watched with
increasing wrath
people all over
fall in love.
My envy grew as my clouds
did; above it all,
and you
watched me turn from
red to black to red
to blue, and languish
in my hopes of touching
skin with skin, with tongue,
with heart.
We had been discussing
the idea of touching grass
with our bare toes,
plucking grapes off a green
vine around the gates of
palaces,
feeling rain in our hair
as we chased through labyrinths,
and the way ecstasy  might coarse
through fingers and feel
things that we can’t
hear, see, or
taste.


You said things
take sacrifice, and I
agreed.
We were giant, and we
both would shrink
to fit inside a
cavity that would carry us
back to each
other.
You always proposed
the meeting place,
and I always proposed
the time.
We both loved
compromise, and we both
understood sacrifice.

I promised you sometime
in eternity, and you
promised me somewhere
on Earth.

“The gauntlet”

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