Berggasse 19¹
Much can be accomplished in the pregnant
pause, in the gap between wish and warrant:
at such intervals, I studied her brunette crown
and the pale travel of skin along her hair’s part,
uneven as a homemade envelope, and the little
black boots beneath her cloaked ankles, resting
on the far side of the davenport: small mute feet,
clutched together like darkly burrowed mammals
asleep in winter’s decay of leaves.