of bricks … Who built it? Like some crazy balloon

When love leans on us

Its nights … The velvety pavement sticks to our feet.

The dead puppies turn us back on love.

Where we are. Sometimes

The brick arches led to a room like a bubble, that broke when you entered it

And sometimes to a fallen leaf.

We got crazy with emotion, showing how much we knew.

The Arabs took us. We knew

The dead horses. We were discovering coffee,

How it is to be drunk hot, with bare feet

In Canada. And the immortal music of Chopin

Which we had been discovering for several months

Since we were fourteen years old. And coffee grounds,

And the wonder of hands, and the wonder of the day

When the child discovers her first dead hand.

Do you know it? Hasn’t she

Observed you too? Haven’t you been observed to her?

My, haven’t the fowers been? Is the evil

In’t? What window? What did you say there?