332

When we woke the air was dry.
Our torn skin cracked
when it touched anything but itself

Somehow I was surprised when the outside
didn't cure us immediately
and the first thing I tested it with
were your hands

331

I never liked big rooms
empty but for me and you
or heavy with hellos,
But I was born in a small room
in a small town that you know
because you were born there too.

That's what I think of
when I think of you,
what you've done, what you can do
and your steps echo in the high ceiling
over the big room.

330

Small square windows in a row
give glimpses out to the outside trees
for prisoners to use sparingly.

Between the boxes of flat branches
hides one who got to the other side.
His hand lies just above the frame
where the other half of the sun is cut off.

329

It must have been a month since you last loved me-
I can't say I've changed too much all year.
Maybe you got buried underneath the snow
and closed your eyes and saw me
because there was nothing else to do.

If that's what happened I wish
you'd had your harmonica
and the sound had gone in you
with nowhere else to go

So when they dug you up
and lifted you and sent you back home to me
I'd be waiting on the couch
right where you left me

328

Even when I come home in the
early morning through the
hole in the roof I never
told you about, you'll never be surprised

You'll just roll over in the bed to face me
like each time before
when I would come in through the door

327

I fed my dinner to you enough to know
you weren't really fixed

As my skinny arm would bring the fork to your mouth,
you'd look at me as if to say
sorry, but it has to be this way

326

You sounded so pure when you said all you want
is something that's no matter what
until I let you know you had it

and then when I called you from the kitchen floor,
you made me wait until I loved you more.