Do you know how,sometimes, when you first wake up,your pulse is so thorough, so slow,that you, and the one who is with you, and the room, and the opening light all seem to swelland subside...

One probably hears about it.One, wire, recognizes.One holds her bones up next to each other.One insists, grinding the clutch.One would powder and powder.One would ask out of the back of the throat.One refuses.One is so...

We cannot carve or forcibly preserveor cultivate belief. If it will grow, it growsas we do – mostly after we have fallen

Certainly not the way someone will have told you the same thing yesterday, made you feel alternately – simultaneously – angry and guilty, guilty because complicit because flattered, therefore unfairly angry.

And in the sin of wantingalways to be right, the punishmentis knowing it isn’t possible.

She isn’t here, but aroundhere, in a deep raindisappearing.