Finished, Corey Mesler

How do you
know
when the poem
is
finished, she
asked me,
this woman
dressed
in scarves and
bangles,
her mouth
a bright
red wound. How,
I asked
her back, do
you know
when
the rainstorm
is over?
She kissed me
then
and I held her
close
the way a
monk might,
any night,
in his moon-
stricken need.