Garden Jacaranda (ii)

I only wanted to be a moon, lilac and scattered
Underneath your feet. I wrote this for you,
Your lacing fingers
Are as I am – moving, pushing
Always returning

I have watched you curve
With the earth, trace it blindly
As I did – linearity is a chromed thing
That I cannot understand. You mend, cauterise
Like me, haven’t you discovered freedom?
I was nothing; heavy lidded and raw,
Pulp for another

Fluvial, dart, my shadow is oxbow,
Crosses borders, transgressor, breaks
Mosaic – aren’t you happy? I bloom so
You must rend me. I am no lamp,
Fixed coordinate or
Tiled surface – let me feel