the girl. (for vaishnavi)

the girl. the girl is the tail end of the shooting
star & i spend all my wishes on a first-
hand account of her reality. a miracle. an
ordinary symphony that sounds sugar-sweet on
her tongue: it’s not ordinary if it’s you home
never feels unlike what i knew 
soft. giggles like water down my back 
in the shower stall i sing. under my breath. her
name could make me kneel. she sounds like a prayer
song i recite when the temple bells ring
too fast. too wild. gentle. murmurs & whispered
hope in the back of my neck: i’m not afraid 
to turn my back. to the girl. the girl.