wings exposed in full starlight

to give the brief encounter. We waved our pennants then and argued quietly about the respirating river, the scratch of treelimbs on the windows. "All that you know I know" lazy automobiles slowed by the sun red rockets upon the cobbles bricked over exits hidden windows "no longer made to see in or out of" the wake of starlings through fog upon late-seeded lawns, smoke carved children emerging from their homes to stare at the sky reflections upon the broken water's surface the rustle of bodies in the bamboo and the impact of bone on bone through our loosened flesh.

Every angle uncovered by her rough fingers, he hid in the shade of her eyelashes and hoped to go unnoticed. no stones no wards against the starlight they flung handfuls of gravel at the greenhouse walls