Rain constant hours
shadowy bamboos crowning
veranda handsome, exotic

Ovo in regolith
scumbled, awake on
a rectangle mirror

Claustrophobic trumpet vine
tired of city
life no choice

They have affairs. They rarely stop to think
until they're begging for a second chance.
We love and learn we sometimes need a drink.

You're crazy if you called this an affair.
We slept together, and you made me come.
No big deal. You've got a lot of strange

They're not of curves and shadows made.
They don't wear skirts to swoop and tease
the eye, nor toss their hair, nor sway.

Two thousand orphans, real ones and children of
Jewish deported parents, so you and your
   ill-sorted Red Cross wartime colleagues

Here, the water plunges below the cliff-face.
Here, the locomotive purrs in the station.

Syllables shaped around the darkening day’s
contours. Next to armchairs, on desks, lamps
were switched on. Tires hissed softly on the damp

She was not the builder of model airplanes.
She was not the runner I never could be.
She was not the pillager of my bookshelves,