I weave a wreath of flowers
the symbolism is irrelevant
transience or awakened longing
waiting for the velvet of distant laughter

you on the canvas with flowers and he
under a low canopy on a bed of green moss
I want to meet you both by my side –
lumberer hermit
poet imposter
– because today is Ash Wednesday
and I will throw the mascots into the fire
and I will banish the curse of
starving body

only he has the destiny of a dancer

but sometimes touches take it away