In our secret solstice
I said . . .
I would sleep on ancient green bronze nails.
I would fell the forests of six thousand mountains.
I would walk through the hushed valley of the Blackteeth.
I would teach a nine-headed cobra to gently sway and sing of lotus offerings.
I would harness the wind stars and hold near a thousand burning sun stones.
I would live in the marsh where five hundred thunders dwell.
I would place a cooling compress where the giant’s axe cleaved your dreams.
I would pluck the sad orchid Dragon’s tears from beneath your stilled, centered eyes.
I would fly of Gryphon’s wings to hum a whispered lullaby and battle night-demons from your sleeping gate.
I may even have mentioned licking a dusty driveway or two.
We giggle giggled at my exaggerations, rough-housing on lover’s extravagance.
But I meant it.