25

I made you a queen. A piece of my hand still

stung with the wasp attached. Two stones

that will never touch, the strings of their

polarity are knotted though. A scrap of paper

that held all the first words I said to you.

Willow bark still smoldering from the bosque fire

we lit for fun. A vial of river water as a witness.

There is a plinth and some marble dust from the

last pillar I made. A humming bird at rest and a

rusted lock that might never open. Each placed

in a raw hide bag to \ache against your heart

.