Newly Empty

[Lykren]

From a gratuitous dream
the story emerges,
blank and perfect,
like a pearl
stuck between two rocks.
As I wash and dress
the categories of loneliness
expand. A stiff lip,
a pane of glass:
they are things we need,
and nobody can tell us
otherwise. The sea
harrumphs and lifts
its tiny burden, one flower,
a wrinkle in your palm.