At A Wedding

My baby and I take a moon bath.
A strange man holds her. He wears
An Our Lady of the Rockies T-shirt.

The air of Santa Fe cools, and mountains
Sink into night, featureless
As her face before it was born.

Weeks ago, I opened up.
Was big enough for day and night.
The wedding and the honeymoon.

She breathes cool air, warms it,
Breathes out. My face catches her scent.
She’s my incense, rose that opens daily.

She is my background music.
Her hands curl, sweet mudra
Of youth. The marriage is true.

I bask in her breath, moon bath.
I can feel light fingers. I know how
Our Lady of the Rockies loved that touch.


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