My room holds no nectar,
not even a flower -
we are far from the gardens up here.
...
I wish that all was written down
so I shouldn’t have to speak.
My voice, it taints, makes words impure -
they cannot breathe up here,
...
When first I discovered her,
She was nervous as a butterfly.
A kiss sent her flitting about the party
As if scorched -
...
Your head - huge, impossible -
sticks out from the wall,
as though you had somehow got
stuck
...
We stand beside a tower of stone. Overhead
the clouds trace vertebrae formations.
The sheep are tufts of cotton, spotted
Across the fields –
...
The room is empty, except
for a bulb hung low from the ceiling,
a ring on the dresser, you swore
never to leave; these flowers
...
The stomach tightens,
yawns shake the body - needles
prick the skin into gooseflesh.
...