Even in stars, even in stars;

& even in the motion

of moonlight on the reservoir, even

reflection, the sink mirror

showing half of someone else's

face, even in the scree

that tumbles down from off

the freeway, even running, even

in stars, even in adelaide

& even in december, with this

summer sun as thin as dust, the air so

heavy with the smell of stars, but

even in stars, even in writing,

even in the tide rolling facedown

past the bait shop, even

your mother, framed grey in the

doorway of your childhood

bedroom, even floodwater, even

in stars, even at home

& even in dusk, when i am

looking in your window again, even

in the glare of headlights, once, twice,

the bottle shop eight blocks away,

even hesitation, the smell of

smirnoff on your breath, the smell

of stars, even then, even i flower

in amber tones, copper plate camera,

the white creek running through

your backyard, even in drought, even

in stars, even in storm

& even in the warm light

of your eyes, caught in amber (god)

if caught in amber, then even

your eyes, green eyes, the warm sigh

of your hands, even ash, even in

the mausoleum, even seven years, you

start the music playing, unfold

the corner of the duvet, even in stars,

a memory of your smile, a small

reminder of your shoulder, shoulder,

i chase you on & off the freeway,

listen to the music, even your laugh,

even in stars, even the amber

moon as it writes love songs on

the reservoir, even in darkness, even

in suburbia, even the shape you

left on the fold-out mattress, even

the smell of stars tumbling in

floodwaters from your skin, all of you

caught in amber, even this

half-bath, even your arms.