143

her world being liquid

they could bathe there,

and emerge unsullied.

.

.

142

she would linger
—long before
and long after.

.
.

141

though her garden 

was luminous,

the things of this world
drew sustenance
from the dark.

.

.

140

for those she favoured,

she would reveal herself
in the gaps and chiasms
of the everyday.

.
.

139

her vulnerability
was indestructible.

.

.

138

the barest of glimpses
would suffice.

.

.

137

in her world, infinity
was just a matter of course.

.

.

136

comfort was not
to be found
in memories,
but in remembering.

.

.

135

the precious
and the inconsequential
were both delicately poised
within her gaze.

.

.

134

even the barren bore fruit
—perhaps only the barren...

.

.