erato

                                                   how 
                                  this table rustles 

                                      with the wind 
                       blowing 
                       through the window 

                                             you say 
                       i am lonely and drifting 
                          and i agree 
                            some days 


(here, quiet, meshed inside 
a world of books and coffee

:alert 
         yet: 

out of body 
restless-restless 
for 


    the sky 
when it burns dew in the morning 
from the covered ankles of a lover in winter 
still asleep and closed off from the storm 


        buried. cold. free. 
                        below.