something that is ‘i’ looks out at something that is ‘you’, asking too many rhetorical questions zeugmatically

you smell of rain,
and dark belanterned sky,
of sheets of water,driven
at odd angles to reality,
or was it horizontal? i forget.

you sound like
dripping silences, complete
with rattling rooftops, shards
of skylines tinkling at sunrises,
or maybe sunset hours. i do not remember.

your eyes are monuments
to galaxies, passing
and of stardust spilled
across invisible borders of worlds.
or was it dimensions? i am confused.

your movements, light
like music, made of themes
both counter-point and in harmony
with the melodies of the spheres,
or maybe plainscapes. i do not understand.

in the sway of your movement,
i am still, and the carnival
that is life, condenses around me
all swishes and brightness, all that feeling,
or was it thought? i believe.

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