She stands on the edge of the pier, looking out
I watch her hair dance, as if lifted up by
Puppet strings,
Collarbone unprotected from the cold
Galileo timed a pendulum with the beating of his heart
Fractals surround us, in the forest of trees
Something is at work here, a higher math
A lower understanding

We watch old Bollywood movies, and
Cry
Things to remind us we're alive
Never again will we watch Harold & Maude
Heat up casseroles
Order flowers
Then again, maybe we will go to India
Throw that colored powder
And dance