I locked on to her signals which then stopped
& which I probably imagined in
the first & second places where we met
every time I see her knocks more bright cliffs
off of the wet end of my glacier
& having no access to replacements
my being diminishes & dribbles
like some run-over ice pop in the sun
outside her garage if you look closer
it’s easy to trace the tracks of her tyres
if there’s a smile on my face it’s because
of the music clearly & a gladness
she exists though unavailable to
me gladness a bright buoy in a grey sea
ice water whispering interiors
threatening to overcome settlement
agriculture & civilisation
I especially remember the speed
& dexterity of her thumbs as well
as several things I used to do with mine
as she flew over into the darkness
of our deactivated purposes
& the shacks of her own expectations
my gladness she exists a high harmonic
on the complex chord of what is this thing
although it doesn’t matter what it’s called
now the low-lying meadows are flooded
where we once walked through unexpectedness
on a morning she may not remember
all the places where nothing now may grow