Waking every day the frost reasserts itself. Its relentlessness a tedium, a closure. The earth must have looked more familiar when all was water.

Propped up on one elbow,
leaning his cheek on his hand,
he looks at her as she sleeps,

Boyhood, a dangling carrot. I stare at you
and experience the embarrassment of riches. 

I love desire, the state of want and thought
of how to get; building a kingdom in a soul
requires desire. I love the things I’ve sought—

The way we made sure the entire tree glowed with
only blue lights you’d think we were calculating
the atmosphere. This was our time to be sad,

On this beautiful Saturday in May
Sophie has married Michel
and Michel has married Sophie

I try to keep the promises I make
—for each one broken breaks the world—and seem
inhuman: no crack, no fissure, no mistake.

I bought a camera, though there were
many reasons not to.
In spite of the reasons not to

First came the age of gold, then silver, steel,
papier-mâché—and now glass: the transparent

briefcase I bought in Rome so you can see

Night arrives solid and heavy
more than several blocks long—to displace
its weight and float like a tanker over us.