It came about at noon one day
at noon I decided to stop breathing;
scarcely had I chose before a rustle stirred
and the glitters melted on every thigh round the table.
I sat witnessing you, witnessing my hand.
I was only reaching for the jug, for the creamer,
but limbs are tender, eyes are foggy at this time
all golden lights on the tablecloth lie on the white hour,
noontime in the morning. I must have touched, at morningtime, you,
We must have seemed creamers to each other, true, so that we touched,
across the table, on the table, far from the flowers or the vase,
the two separate, the glass and leaf marriage (product of Sweden).
scarcely had I chose before a rustle stirred, a shudder shook,
every window rattled and the wind picking up, my boss
calling calling me even though I was unreachable,
silly dame I was in white noontime space, oh silly dame,
I had no sense of touch, silly me, I had volunteered my breath.
I breathed back into service, I drank my coffee black.