A ghazal by Mike Barney
Night exposes bone to cold, skin to
stars, flesh to infectious moonlight.

This body, that body, linked by
spirit, time, one wan worn limb.

If not twin souls, mayhaps twined hearts or at
least the same lust at several different times.

Bringing shaded bodies into being with the wave
of a special wand, a secret passage. Great magic!

Well-rooted trees stand up against anything until they
don't anymore. The earth makes sweetheart deals with no one.

Ghazal 8. Ghazal 10.