by Adriane Seville

For Amarna Miller

I have seen all of you,
all that you allow to be seen;
the distant surface of you which reflects the sun
otherwise lost somewhere in the valley of night.

I have come to know you
through the vivid colors of dusk in which you hide,
the fragrant elliptical leaves which crown you,
the sound of your laughter among the bittersweet oriels.

Still I would like to touch you
as a boy might reach out to touch the moon
or pull a bright orange from a tree

and taste such sweetness that his eyes close.
I would like to stand near you in the orange grove
to feel how you send the day’s warmth and colors off into the night.

A resident of Austin, Texas, Adriane Seville was born and raised in Mexico City and is heavily influenced by Latin-American poets. With an MFA from Portland State University, Adriane is currently working on a series of 99 modern sonnets. You can read more of Adriane’s work in Sleet, Shampoo, The Tidal Basin Review, and The Broken Plate.