Even the stillness is on the move | she said | Don’t you feel it?

I lay my head on her stomach | arms loosely around her waist and I could feel the ruins of her ribs

You know there are necklaces in everything

Just to breathe feels reckless in a world so | groundless

Flung together, do you like it? | he asked | By chances so slender, ways so unlikely, across | ground so | uncharted | through mazes so | complex, so | haunted | each thing, even the most massive, most solemn, most | static of things, displays | a reckless attitude to us, who only | ask to order and | in ordering | survive

She had | a pearl on her tongue, she was scented with fennel and Valentino, put the | Japanese knife aside

Atoms of our thoughts blown indolently to and fro | on a warm summer breeze… | Touch my arm with a Rocket, fresh | from the freezer | the hot, verboten red | sticks to my skin as if | the flesh were magnetic

You know | Elegant | diamond studs in your lobes | carbon holding the living | light | there are atoms in everything

Turn up your shoes | and shake them out | for centipedes, scorpions and snakes

There is nothing taught the Zen sage in everything

All the guests are here she said

The children might see us

And saints and butchers, side by side, the world | has room enough for them | The evening preceding that terrible storm | you sat calmly before the mirror, the lamplight | snared and shot | from the facets of the diamonds | in your tiny lobes

More room, more room! / the thoughts all cry | and the furniture | shifts uneasily

Check the bed | for snakes | for scorpions | for venomous | centipedes

Our breasts and lungs | for lumps and shadows

We made love fitfully | all night | By the time we had to sleep | it was dawn | a robin, full of April, in the apple tree | began to sing

and this is not | the last | echo of that song

Swans ruffle, dabble and stab | on the placid river | white swans and the river | my memory, and blossoms | pink-white | moving through the air, the vision | a moment | the moment | a wedding