Somewhere behind the eyes a careful lamp looks. When I wrote your name in the shadows, a beam of sun fell through my window. Why did you drag me down to the outermost mountains? We are the delicate, speaking distantly to the quiet. The pain sailing on streams of gold in dawn’s canopy of light. I found a line somewhere under my bookcase. Which night followed the night? Of other cities, other worlds. Something opened up. I sailed between your lips and kissed the meteorites glittering down through the atmosphere.