And she said, “Meet me one day
on the other side of somewhere.
Meet me at the edge of time.
Come and tiptoe on the glassware,
Along the rim, moist with wine.”
“Meet me where the sun is shaken
To bits of blue mosaic stories,
Where the Earth shines silver,” I replied.
“Meet me in the morning’s glories,
When the golden anther’s in high tide”
So we met, and ran along the edge
Of a flower, purple and dusted with gold.
We shied from its black-velvet throat,
So as not to fall in, unable to hold,
And with our feet, in the dust, we wrote.
Satisfied, we danced along the rim
Of a wineglass, moistened with wine.
Our feet flew fast, along the glass,
Drawing a humming, red-silver line
And we filled the air with a note, at last.