auroral

maybe this finds you

in the morning

as you awake

before the parts of your body

find each other

before your thigh becomes tan and whole

before your bones rope with muscle and blood

before the longbow arc of your back

belongs fully to you

maybe in that space

in the morning

as you awake

some of you

is mine

crescent

I want one thing

from you

the story of the scar

that arcs

across your shoulder

the one half-hidden

by the narrow blue strap of your dress

comet's course

orbital bow

I want to hear you

tell it

as I watch the space
between your eyebrows

as you decide

what to hide