And only thought of the lines, of the way they resembled, the way they coloured and charmed and I don’t know what. A shy room, an intimate room. Incomprehensible sentences to dress up in. From time to time you said some words. The lights lighted.
When I read a boring poem, I read a boring poem and it struck me: The summer was quite all right after all, autumn and winter. We thought of contexts of natural phenomena: The quivering of northern lights in your voice; glittering secrets inside the stones, inside the Earth, inside each other.