Her:

nights when the sheen of rain coats
pavement in color reflected,
light mellowed and a little lost.

stars twinkling in puddles
ripple blink ripple on
the slope of curb no one cares to notice.

we might have lost our way from looking
up instead of letting quiet
direction wet our feet.

don’t fret, think
steam rising milk skin wet pavement
when you lean over your reflection in rain puddles.

that is how i carry you with me.

Him:

Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

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