Split Infinitives

The shadows that cross
your face
cross mine.
When wind shakes leaves,
shadows shift.
Light lifts from your face
and reflects off
the curved surface
of bark and bract.

Underneath opaque faces
and the hint of a smile
lie shadows of craters;
beneath the bract,
the flower.

The heart swells onto the page,
the face, the eye;
yet hides.

Face reflects face
like moon reflects sun.
The contours of a line trace
thorn and blossom.
The deep bellows of the forge
breathe into us
like lungs.

For we are split infinitives,
diamond shard,
sparks of the forge.
We are burl and pearl.
Our world,
deep as a stone can fall,
wide as a wing can fly.

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