Slow careless speech - truss it - Save what little air remains
Oh yours would be first, of course it would, first on the wall: against it
Where shall I sit and watch you? Watch as the scowl collapses
Not to a smile, I never dared to expect so much but
Back from resentment maybe, back into history
Far from the hours of clutter much of which came to nothing
What was it I was wasting? What could I feel escaping?
To hush that telltale knock I locked your voice in its box


Unready unready to review your changing shape
I barely have motion. I am not yet prepared for it


Oh mine, I'll stay here as the day cuts through the blinds
To rest against your shoulder
Bold light on an opera of dancing dust
All this past looks of love
What is it left remaining? What have we here in this room?
You're covering my soul