Picking Up a Dandelion

Anna Yin

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Before dawn,

I pick you up,

then bring you closer.

My fingers slowly roll

over your body,

removing seeds attached to you,

free them into the air.

 

I hear you sigh

as if breezes swirl at the bottom

of mountains. Through wheels

of twilight, I see you naked and fresh.

A shadow, and now a thin split cocoon,

your face opens to the sky,

then turns to me, shivering in joy.

Anna Yin, "Picking Up a Dandelion" from Inhaling the Silence. Copyright © 2013 by Anna Yin. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

Source: Inhaling the Silence (Anna Yin / Mosaic Press, 2013)