Had I not watched you admiring our uninvited picnic guest:
Marvelling at the glistening blacks and greens in its sheer wings, and at
Its wide-set ebony eyes longingly fixed on you and me as if we were trees,
I might fire back from doubt a vicious shell to silence your growing rapture
At sunbeams filtered through maple leaves and dancing bewitchingly
On my neck, as on the cicada’s armour.
But, you, prattling with pleasure at the magic of heavenly fires touching earth
Saw immediately this otherworldly glory reflected in us, and intuited that we,
In the urban forest were chosen to merge our wounded hearts; spark; burst
And return the vividness of day into the mystical blanket of night.
And you made the prospect so beautiful, I didn’t question what it was you’d toked,
I just wanted you then to loose yourself in me, like spheres do in the upper kingdom.