someday i’ll love katherine fu Katherine Fu
that is not quite dead, daisy necks bent away from
Here is the clay, here is the hand, and here is
the time to start anew.
Take your fingers,
fingers through hair like dry backyard reed
Crackling under a black-bean sky and
savor the space between a sigh
and a Swallow. the hitch
at the end of a forever loop.
remember the shape of a
what once was is not always
what now will be.
I promised you we'd
walk into the sun;
some day when your plaster skin
runs out of dust and grief,
silly Pristine death mask,
we can become something
Katherine Fu is waiting for the crocuses in spring.