1.
you move
from shower
into light
*
water drips
from hair,
fills the hollows
of shoulders,
trickles down
chest and legs
on to the floor
*
you leave
a puddle
and a hurricane
2.
the bow
drawn
its length
across a
single string
of the cello
*
you press
against me:
the chisel and
the mallet
*
window panes
shred
stars
crescendo
into silence
*
outside:
moonlight
on marble
3.
asleep,
facing away
*
a bolt of silk
unfurled
*
the bell in the tower
vibrates, long
after the hour.
Excerpted from Nocturne