She paints the sky with words -
green and blue and greenish blue
polished stones piled in the space between us.
A wall we never meant to build
cast upon us by those we loved. We love.
My hands mimic motions - emotions
dismantle the stones so carelessly thrown.
She is used to fighting - twiggy arms
shaking with strength.
She will beat you, she says.
And you believe her.
But you give yourself to her anyway
because she sees you
and she feels you.
And you know her because she is you.
And you know that
in a different life,
in a different mind,
She believes you too.
