die mauern einreiben
I Mauer my Hands
across
the Sheets to find
your Body’s own
taut Hindrance its—
Poise, making
Heat
making a Move
across my Slips:
You Become an Outline,
a Light giving way
to the Visible Evidence
of your Grace: a little Pocket
of things Sung and then
slung loose, as is my
late
(in) Desire: caulked
in the Husk of Thinking
“to Strike, to Quiet, to
Wait” and Await Sleepless
until you Return
in (on) these
(in) Sheets
