#031/100 Christine

for Christine So

when we first met she asked me where my ladder rested
& i said: "in the middle of my bed. against the window."
she told me i was a private person who found compass
looking out, from my inner center.

her answer eludes me now that i've seen her climb stairs
& slopes, her leg & biker gloves an epitome of balance--
her traces awash with colors of dresses, jelly & tiger balm
in rural villages in Cambodia

where women & children stirred. on her return she slung
a small bag over her shoulder: "i don't need that much
in my life except to give it away." the escalator speeds
from the border of our town

to where she finds her steps on quiet concrete, rhythm
ascending on Start Street. so i put a bonquet of roses
in her hand & say: "coz you're the girl who doesn't need
anything except love."