Jake's Flea Market

ask nora if you can watch
her unbind the ribbons   unwind
if you can watch her unbraid

ask if you can describe
her hair as gilded silver

tell her the sky’s
made of filaments of spun gold

that it’s rooted in her head

that out of her head grows
gilded heaven   ask

if you can watch her hair fall

cascade down the length of her
like a pale honey plated sunset

ask if you can roll
those strands of that heaven
between your four fingers and your thumb

promise you’ll call her inanna
until she braids   coils   ties with ribbons