(a work in progress which will never be finished)
i.
I take tea in the afternoon,
let the day settle, sort itself out.
It's still bitter, but I notice now
how clean it is, too, how clear.
ii.
The stag is elusive, wisteria
not likely to crown the stars
in uneven antlers ever again,
but there will be new stories
and different gardens.
iii.
The sunlight cuts sharper lines
across your face when you speak
shahia in our bed, eliminating
any distinction between hunger
and appetite.
iv.
Neither contradiction nor thief,
you are a key, a question which
opened me.