“What are you thinking?” she said. “Falling pheasants.”
He said. “Please look at me.” she said.
“I’ve seen too much.” he said. “You’re like a wet cave.”
She said. “You’re a feast of rhythms.” he said.
“I want more than thunderbolts inside.” she said.
“Wave after wave after wave.” he said. “Your eyes
are stitching tighter.” she said. “I am lost in a blizzard
of feathers.” he said. “You are lost.” she said.