Our faces are shiny, silver
as the new silver dollars
in Grandpa’s cold pockets.
At the dark window
we breathe each other’s hair,
warm skin.
Blue,
female thighs
beneath the hems of our slips.
Silver light down the dark sky
stops the man we love
and fear between heartbeats.
It’s dark.
The place where he stood
is empty with night.
Behind the fences
nitrogen and oxygen
are splitting apart.
And we remember him
a blur of flesh
moving in starts across the slow field
his dark hand
brushing light
out of the fur of an enchanted horse.
and shadows of thin trees
fall down to the ground.