Simon Perchik

*

And your heart flowing off
the way a twig
--two places at once

--you will wade back
bringing more water
and moon after thirsty moon

--each night the air scraped dry
unable to bloom
and the light from your breath

--rain is useless here
is swept along
softer than your arms come back

to hide the Earth
holding fast to open sea
and over your eyes.