who should fetch another floorboard for the fire
but the only girl at this party I’ve never seen
the only girl at this party I’ve ever seen
in that realm of beauty beyond which only shades
of equal share in the accidental bounty –
when she comes back, the starving flames have died
the embers glow morosely
the embers a quiver of arrows at unsanctioned rest
in the midst of how many freezing targets?
then the tapestries, the incense, the whole loveless
harem seems to vanish – in her hands
coconut husk
twigs and an empty cocoon are on the verge –
in unseeable friction – of convergence
of together doing what neither part can alone
and the way she moves them
concentric circles on a puddle after a leaf
and the way she blows on them
seashell that will sing her back her breath
has me dreaming the lesser parts in harmonies
finger-painting her with charcoal
on scrolled-out butcher paper
shuddering as if the morning sun broke free –
has me cross-legged and closer to everybody.
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