THE PULSE OF THE SKY

The sky is blank blue.

The blues stuck in my throat turn purple.

Some stranger somewhere dreams the same shade of purple.

-

She looks at the sky.

The curve of lips, a smile she's never

seen, calms her beating heart, without her knowing why.

-

She read a person

in clouds, when weeds were taller than her,

a warmth to hold the shape of her, a hug in sooth.

-

Shapes against blue,

we drift, wisps of love, tied only by

a sky shared across a planet we both on.

-

We spray the love

at the azure dome, it radiates

in the cosmic void, more signal to noise.