I will find him by the river, and take his face
in my hands and they will tremble
at his touch, but still unselfconscious
they will rest on his temples as though
that is all they are meant to do.
He will kick away the stones and pebbles
and his face will be the rainwashed sky,
his body the aerial roots of the banyan
that anchor my life in the crosswinds.
And I will balance on tiptoe
maybe a little shaky, a little awestruck.
I’ll reach up and find his honeysweet mouth,
his breath the sharp drizzle of eucalyptus leaves,
fused silk and stubble his cheekbones,
the curve of his lashes plain poetryand I will kiss him till I fade into song.