Paper Garden

chrysanthemums steep,

blooming in blue porcelain

as the persimmons hang

outside, the moon asleep in our

paper garden, you stir

a midnight incantation

the dew gathers on the windows

and I sit in silence watching people

walk by

the still pressure of the unspoken

is enough to float me through a

fugue dream

i have lived a thousand lives

to hear the quickening sound

of a heart beat.