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So what is it you want then.
A basket.
A tarantula. A hair,
my hair, falling through a
dusty light. Then what did you
want. A coat fallen off the back
of an orange. A slight ribbon.
A wall-unit. I can give you all
these things. So you wanted that.
A white film canister. A plastic with which to
organize cutlery. A bowl with a narrow
stripe. Then what more
did you want. A run in stockings.
A silent explosion in a cup
of pens. A plaster owl to prop
open the door. Any of these things
I could reach for you. A rivet. A smudge on
the carpet. Too big and worn
leather to place your bare feet into.
And then.
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