He said, the sky is a blue ceiling on earth
like water reflecting the day. It’s science.
A fact, I said, and he said, I don’t love
the complex nature in this world like a math puzzle
as he didn’t know that plants and molecules
allow the life in creation to exist.
I take the mail and stare at the magazine headline:
Obama invites Trump to the White House.
I recite my Juliet from the Shakespeare play
the melodious cries for my lover on stage
and we embrace at the curtains. The cup of poison
in my hands to drop dead. God, I worry
that he may weep on my body in the death bed
but I close my eyes to feel his breath on my skin.
I am the one who sheds the heavy tears.