IMMOR TAL IDEALISM

C ATHY CHOI dearest, we spent all of days gone like this: lapping up the star s in the lake of night pooling in the bur geoning sky, watching snow cr ystals nestle blossoms in our hair, the meteor s dazzled us with ever y tur n, and we danced to their rhythm as hoops of molten rock metal rose to the planet’s skin; it only bleeds silver the sun shone ever gold, and we are forever but she was a tulip with a white petal crown and brown petal shoes. a hundred bees blessed her each day. she was watered by the holy hand of another until her lips were laced with lilies and her skin felt safe between her scar s. oh love , do not for get the garden that gr aced you. i could not go on if the weeds remembered your wr ists.