The Sun Strikes Twelve
Harmony said that the note attached to her
kite wouldn’t reach heaven fast enough.
It was scribbled in Sanskrit and I happened
upon a translation, but it soon was lost
with everything else that day.
Our memories were bonded like
super glue and we didn’t know
what to do.
So we hitchhiked to Safford
and bought a minuscule amount
of supplies as we awaited another
day without much else than our thoughts
and the task of becoming the full
representation of the cosmos.