Mars

Open the window to the width of yourself and face out.
It’s so close, and you watch it all night, all summer, how it circles and fathoms you.
You are prone to it, the gap unhindered, could touch it had you the reach.
It presses at your skin, divining fury, even love.
In the mornings you undress and rehearse it with paler light, the near wail of swifts.
You hear whole forests are on fire, and you feel them now.