The handle on your tea cup
is painted blue & tinted green
by falling light,
your two fingers loop
through its ear-shape
curve.
Your bangle hangs like a lantern
on your wrist and there is room enough
to carry a flame.
A darkening of autumn leaves
between your breasts,
a shadowhold.
When you press your feet together like hands,
the gaps let in grass mud sunlight.
At night you lie palm first on my chest,
your legs knot tightly
around mine and the spaces disappear.
