Send for me when the old tidal movements
find themselves replaced by a less
tolerable pattern. Ask me
why it is I do this—
if the reasons can be fathomed.
What the orange sky presages
is the invention of the lantern.
What the pebbles that you smash in half
by dropping show inside
is a smoothness that seems impossible,
one that makes them shine.
Send for me, my love, when you feel shattered.
Let the wind, as it insists,
conduct you to your room.
It’s cold tonight; send me warm messages.