-love by a count in syllables-

(evening and then)  

its moonlight injects

a night’s ink brushing itself

an indigo stone

(and over)

the sweep of her knee

an infinite wave drops drenched

little sea turtles

(as to a heart)

this drug of the sea  

pressed into her atmosphere 

its lifetime of salt 

(half-sleeping she murmurs)

notice the insects

scurrying over the earth

eating each other

(but even)

the shining firefly

dancing across the moon-face

dies in the moment

(yet she whispers)

into this winter 

as snowfall strikes silently

it strikes anyway

                         newport