Valentine’d immortal, we swing on a star,
sipping by turns from a cup makes gold
look tawdry.  Invincible, our fingers twine,
hoping to count stones too precious to name.  
Diamond called Hope edges out of reach
though we have all the time, all the time,
all the time in the world.   Universes hum
our song.  Memorize the tune so they can play
just for us.   Don’t have to look to know
the names etched, then circled with salt-water
pearls forming matching hearts are ours.
Watch them curlicue to infinity.  Einstein
didn’t know half.   Planets are pausing in order
to orbit around our Do Not Disturb.   Swing  
higher, swing.  Pay no mind to how little
we put into building;  space will stay warm
because. . .a god cannot freeze.  Two cannot be
in the cards.  Or can they.    That shadow,
is it gravity?   Funny how space can contract
without warning.   Swing can turn to hemp
unraveling as ash splinters and blows to ether.
Morning:  breeze volunteers to lift joined hips
over ozone.  Whispers Buckle up or you’ll fall.  
Night:   ungodly wind hurls unwitting couple
to unknown zone.   Lucky, land in the ocean.   
Worst scenario:    clocks are going to wall.

(c) Phyllis Jean Green,  Summer, 2005