Sometimes you start
with a blank page other times
there’s no choice
the world before
you were born
prefers a simple table
salt, pepper, a clean glass
still water and when
voices rise
walks out to the balcony
thinks about the cigarettes we
smoked and flicked without though
we would never imagine
doing that today with all the
in the air and settling
down into the roots of your hair
you hardly need the stones
as you walk into the lake
other animals 