"Detail."
I'm wiping the glue off an old book.
A fact so small, who knows if I would have told it to you.
Afterward, there continue these accumulations.
We woke at this time and spoke first
to each other each day for three years, and now what?
I was in love and once illuminated.
Now I am alone.
Pedaling in plain morning like a God
who walks toward a street of only birds.
Only in their singing do they fly apart
and grow their understanding.