| With each word they tighten their fetters | letters |
| and lengthen their chains. She swipes the notes he sends her, | enter |
| locked in shining sheets, somehow there | the |
| yet always beyond reach. Still she waits | gate, |
| with open hands, catching coin, never knowing | blowing |
| the lips from which each leaf is torn – | horns, |
| still, she prays, where spaces stood, his letters stand – | fanning |
| still, where once he stood, she withstands grief | leaves, |
| like pennies pounded thin, like thieving | leaving |
| hands and mouths mutely confessing | confetti |
|
|
