But I could not touch you

i left poetry everywhere

i scattered them with salt and pepper,
cardamom and lemon grass,
rosemary,
vanilla and saffron
& heaped them on your plate,
i hid them under your pillow
to sleep on their magnificence:
lines to make you weep
& capture stardust in wild blue
& mottled green with flakes
of red & gold, ochre and ginger.
i hid them in Dingo's shedding fur,
i carved them into streaming daylight
but i could not touch you

last night i relented,
what if one of us never wakes?
you were already sleeping
when i put my arms around you,
you clasped them close to your heart,
wordlessly,

and i,
like a tamed koi
in the pond where white wisteria grow,
swim close to your hand.