And Did It All Go
Leave a note pinned
to the lampshade tell me
where you’ve been
resting, tell me where
in resting
your hair has fallen
apart—
in the folds
of your thinned sleeve or
along the curve
of a thorn
and then tell me how
to let this salt go
from its ceiling of air
how to unfasten these
buttons and tell me what
can you say to an evening
that never leaves