IN ONE HALL MIRROR
a scene over the glass
of a full moon
beyond cypress boughs,
Byzantine arches
you could imagine
chants of bells
floating from.
Sky, a stormy blue
like water. Under
this mirror in a hall
you wouldn't be there
but somewhere in
a wave of Rashmi
tea rose incense,
the world above
like whatever
the skin of water
seems to sea beasts who
can't breathe on the
land, pressed as
far as they can
to see something rare,
say a might blooming
cereus, not sure
if they try to
call out, their mouths
will fill with water
or leaves or sand