The Deepest Blue

Huan He

We did not know
the name of the blue flowers

everywhere: they fell out of the dirt,
hosing the air with a thirst

for life! They shot their
wishing leaves to raise the ground

a bit farther, if only moving
a tiny scratch—I fell, and you kissed

it to make it best not better,
the way there were flowers

everywhere when a gust blew
us over, face forward,

into the bush,
into the field,

into the horizon,
into the expanse,

until we did not know
our names.