Where foot petals unfolded
Under canopies of foliage was a place
Neither good nor bad --
Was simply beyond. Rumi told
Me this: these words tattooed
On my lover’s elbow’s inner fold.
Meet me there. I met her
In a place where concrete was all we had.
There was no garden. Not even
One petal’s delicacy to subdue
The hard walls of the homes
We loved in -- our mouths our only flowers.