in the pursuit of—. [Whatever that means for

you]. Like with most things, I have gone further

than really necessary—a trait picked up in child-

hood carried through many executions. Am I happy

with that? Hey, no one expects an answer. I still

follow shadows lit from an angle I’ll never see.

This is grace—this hollow corridor—all the lights

are off a candle beats nervously I am alive. Not

everyone gets to say that. Lilies once took over

our whole garden, white scent of death was every-

where I miss too many friends. Now I kiss the

quiet hard morning with no one up, the jasmine

lingering outside the window, the plaster ceiling

rose in the long hall. I kiss everything on its hands

turn them over, kiss its wrists. I have gone to

extraordinary lengths for nothing and for this.