You offered your hand in what became
A cubist reflection in tandem mirrors
Extending your graces through an infinity
Of diminishing memories
Seed-like diamonds conveyed
In clocklike uniformity
All of which could be planted,
Or solemnly established as corner stones
To a certain gesture of elegance
So deemed by its relationship to human history
And the laws of nature,
Indelibly engrained like etched metal,
Or the lilting symmetry of tree ferns
A pleasant yet damaging memory
Necessarily buttressed with the fodder
Of hard work and deserved recompense
In honor of a good wage and just reward
For this unblemished offering
Descending from a Cloud
Like a cascade of angelic metaphors
Bound with wild flowers,
Muted colors and impressions of summer
Imagery indistinct and fuzzy
Enraptured by all those things good
With Keepsakes once stored and pickled,
Preserved and forgotten
Waiting for a day of reckoning
To acknowledge and justify
The pathetic cries of a birthright
Mythically grasped from thin air
And passed down by elders
With little else to hold on to but
These last vestiges of essence
That I have preserved just for you
Pressed between these pages
Of bold indiscretion
And secret passages where
The image of your hand
Could live forever on a cloud
And the spray of ocean water
Slammed up against the rocks
Smelted into glaring white
Photonic flakes that propagate
And ossify the world below
Into blurry edged, manageable pieces
Lumpy and dull white
Colorless albino pink
Kind of empty with a wanton need
To imbue in it some kind of meaning
In order to keep it at all
From disappearance -
But hands can do that
They're here and there
Leaving tracer tags
And burrowing into cotton
The gentle touch is
The conveyor of intent -
The prelude to a kiss
Your arm and the cloud
Flowed into the curvature
Of your palm
But soon it was gone
And the only thing left
Was my untainted impression
Together with all that I have added
Yet it is still a perfect likeness