Roses

I took my first sip of water
from an umbilical cup

like air and your perfume
it keeps me from wilting.

When dreams run dry, the sureness of stars,
the legacy of your touch will be company

eyes, snowflakes and fingerprints
will measure the grains of whatever is true

about loving. Till then
I'll settle for water, air

the scent of your hair, lavender
fresh linen, even a rose garden.

Smirr

I saw you smiling in
the wind-shade sheltering
from the plainsong
of precipitation