We dance

in the garden
between
impatiens

and an ash
tray. Sun
shines down,
reflects from
your collarbones.

I turn
raspberries
from white
to red.

Sun flashes off
the birdbath. Now,
1 hour later,
we dance
between concrete
and thyme.

Breeze churns
clouds, turbulent
and you
dance
into
rain.

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