she circles

in softness
in un-

expected math

she’s a break from
the
flicker

(carnation of stars)

is she hair, is she air,
is she eddies in the

night?
you think about daffodils
you think about light
you want to brush

her arm
in extended fluidity

reach for a pulse
tucked under her knee
now hug-held
closer to her chest

::

playing sort of another Moon card
as imagined in Starry Night for RT

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