but all the time something unknowable was bending
the meadow grasses ever so slightly and we longed
for its gaze    for its footstep and whisper deep
in the piney wood    in the green distances of a planet
hidden between stars    a planet that is a fetishization
of water and stone    a world that’s a soft light and a slow
sleep    a world like an apparitional bee flying through
a hive    little ghost    little curtain call.