and you
opening after to my
opening also
your mouth
breaks in less words, more life forms
a wave or
one look before the plunge to kingdoms
instead where barriers were
deserts unify
rain cuts through the endless surround
like the space of body markings
counting hair on a forearm
how many times come back
to maps again and contortion
out of them
for instance
your eyes dreaming of tigers
even kiln patterns match
themselves, but not to burn
names for things—unless I meet you
at the window; you part curtains
it was a world just watching you
I can mention in discard
will the cataracts roar over night fires
there’s your precision of lonely hours
already written in, collapse
to that freeze neighbouring
my opening after yours also
no stone pack to receipt hurt
layers let drift and drop off
with shoulders replied by a touch
vocabulary, juncture of your presence
that’s the beauty of it I see now
we attempted every settling to the end,
withheld the quartz outcome
for the walk home