… I watched her
in her sleep. The hands resting
in a swan posture. Her personal angel
near the shoulder.

No sage provided me with basic knowledge
on where she might have wandered while asleep.
Yet, now I presume she may wander in a different pageant of reality.

All dressed in light and stardust.
(literally stardust, as I saw it many times on her nightgown when
the shy moon fashioned to glow through my window).

The hands in the swan posture,
continently embracing continents & oceans
as if they were painted on the china
vase near the bed.

So thick is the air she breathes
(with her personal angel near the shoulder)
That I can draw perfect polyhedra
onto the sky and see them for hours.

Perfect traces lasting as long as she sleeps, with her hands
in a swan posture.

The swan? The peerless aquatic
bird having usually pure white
plumage when adult, walking awkwardly,
flying strongly when once started,
and being the most graceful swimmer
even when one turns the water
into vacuum from heavens.