my arms tightly around her
waist. She always begins
where I end. But,
There is a look she gets
when she sees the horizon lay
like a bolt of fabric yet unwound
by anticipating nimble fingers.
Her eyes become those of a
coral snake stalking its prey:
intense yellow under satin
warm red smelling skin. My grip
tightens to bring her back
home. Within barbed-wire fences,
home, wide as a campfire’s light
home, where I can touch
her flushed cheeks,
grab her fleeing body.
When she rose up
past the fences, up
past the fire’s light, up
from the land,
I shot her down.
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