The vase holds a hyacinth near your pillow where heads lay heavy
the natural order of the abyss, hidden from this floodwater winter.

This is night in thought and I wander from our room through the hall,
and I go to the underbelly of evening. Walk through anatomies:

bowel and sinews, the lymph of chance. Wait for memory
to pass over to a newer, cooler enclosure. Lids release.