fragile, distorts the waves
trumbling out of the lamp,
and throws an angry rainbow
on the wall.
The earrings slip
out of the case, their icicles
hang from a screw, and drip light
on your shoulders.
In the valley that the snow cannot reach,
It is cold and dry; the ice on the mountain
Looks down at it and laughs.
“You must hurry up if we are to make it.”
I lounge on the chair.
The creatures below carry their light well.
Ants with lanterns, they rush home with food.
At a certain line, the moon bends,
And the stream twists to get a better view of our room.
One creature looks up: me on the chair,
You at the mirror, and we giving them a light from above.
Soundless driving. In this cage, we hold
Ourselves together as best we can
By looking at a road… some road, this road.
A dog barks in the distance.
The windscreen does not let me see it.
The wine seeps into the deep red carpet,
And is lost.
The maid cleans up the pieces,
It was not our cup.