January peeks over the same way the sun does
at dawn, in order to signal roosters to crow.
For me, it's the time to evaluate my situation.
The way the light slants itself into an abstract
symmetry over the valley makes me think of you,
how you always lose yourself trying to accomplish
a task, like chasing dandelions across the yard
with a lawnmower, which makes it harder for me
to think wisely. Even at night when the sky,
dark and brooding, unleashes its schemes, I dream
about you and everything that matters in your life.
The minute the black tongue of midnight drapes
over me, I let myself fall towards the silhouettes
of your elements where color breaks apart
in the most puzzling way, until the mountains
cease to shoulder the skies, until I become
just a butterfly mingling in the midst of commas
and exclamations dotting the margins of your dreams.
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