It was futile this endless,

seeming to have no ending,

this seamless limit, eternal

a breakdown of the thick

distance between me


What is happening around you,

Stop. Pause. See eternal, a word which describes

what is washing over us,

dulled, and heavenly like a breakdown.


Only, the woman says,

He wasn’t your husband then


The thin sky

tells me to suspect that he is that

kind of Man

like my Father was, I think,


worlds muddle apart

conjoining and separating

in a new house where we only


imagine that peace will be different

here, different than they used to be.