Private spaces, private
thoughts I keep, I see
you. I see you and am
knowing, even now, there once were
only bodies, only
my round rims, eyes again, my nostrils—
and the hurricane stopping. And we seeing
ourselves. And it
starting. And we calling it, our
women, our men, our gods with perfect
belts, with fish, with eyes on other
animals. Another minute and
another neighbor, a country, another
minute, a city
ruined. How far, immediately
away are the waters. How much
fog can we endure.
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