“Morning in the mountains. I am going down home
early. The road empty, wide, smooth as my hand.
Sun streams heavy bays of light. If I could remember one
use of beauty, the persistent type, on whole unhuman,
so much more space made for possible peace…”
“To turn over in bed and see you there
is to see you in a new hemisphere.
The geography of desire
…The mind is
a landscape like a room.
And all across the night
we shifted and we shifted into
…The universe could
have been many places. Now it is
just one place. We race and we race to it
and when we arrive
we are two tired, busted-out stars.
In a room wherefrom you are looking at me:
what we obliterate is ours.”