Together, We (second draft)

Know the breeze on oily skin.
Salt your eyes. Listen to seeds
push from the soil.
Live with the pollen. Stand
in the coals – peel dead
from your feet and elbows and hands;
or dust a path for our children to meet;
but leaves but glow but the instinct to fall.
Touch my hair – tangle your hands in the naps.
Say, “Lo siento, 'speranza, y yo.”