Smoke and Saffron

There were 12 panes

in the window facing West -

I counted them

as you slept

with my breasts in

your hands

I caught your smoke rings

with my painted red toes

and you laughed

at all the things

I didn’t yet

understand

You said my eyes were blue,

like agate lanterns,

I remember

-you cried

at my unfathomable softness

I knew that it was transient,

even then

But,

I willingly swam in your saffron sea

and

My hair is yellow – still