Page Twelve       leave a message on a leaf for william shakespeare… that’s what she said, that opal, that lost girl… leave messages on leaves. and why then not? it’s not as though I lack the time. it’s not as if they made a crime, these leavings, these small messages on leaves.   [...]

Page Ten                                          and I, finder of the dying swan, must carry away your leaving only in eyes and heart, hands hanging empty of your wanted white weight. I can’t return with sleeping bag and food, to lie there close above you, singing you away into the realm of force, singing you away [...]