the sea swelled             for a breath    between 

   two lakes             touching           waters of fire

 and they supped in the street           noses to the ground 


 a cloud of          octopus purple 


                         ink           two blouses inflated by the breeze

sliced into thin strips shaking

            as keys shake in locks shake              directions that

                            cross out their names     that mute voices


   echo          in the gutter          outside    their home

   new mothers feed crying arms                  break of day insinuates itself

    into a resistance of tears          from the northwest         absorbs the skid of their car

as it carreens towards the one or two words spoken