The liquid cigarette.
The dark birds.
The dark birds came.
I didn't know their name.
They walked in Hebrew on the sand so I'd understand.
They sang.
The sea flowed, though no one made a road.
I shivered on the shore when the water closed its door.
Then, as I felt the birds return to me like ashes
to an urn and sunlight warmed the stones,
fire undressed my bones.