If you were a landscape

If you were a landscape through which I could walk,

stand quietly and look with my eyes wide open

and stretch long out on the hard ground,

and press my face up against and say nothing.

But most of all it's like the arch of sky above

where there's space for outdoor light and dark clouds

and for the free wind in between

that whirls in my hair and covers my face

with kisses, without asking, without promising.