The eyes are closed.

The windows are open.

The blue towel is spread

in the center of the floor.

The windows are open.

The legs are crossed

in the center of the floor.

Shirtless. Shoeless.

The legs are crossed.

The chest is bare.

Shirtless. Shoeless,

with a hole in your left sock.

The chest is bare.

The skin pale.

With a hole in your left sock,

you count from one to ten.

The skin pale.

The breath steady.

You count from one to ten

like a child practicing scales.

The breath steady

in spite of thoughts that dart and swoop

like a child practicing scales

during rush hour.

In spite of thoughts that dart and swoop,

a single melody heard

during rush hour—

somewhere someone whistling an unfamiliar tune.

A single melody heard

comprised of all the noise, horns and birds.

Somewhere someone whistling an unfamiliar tune.

Then intermittent moments of calm.

Comprised of all the noise, horns and birds,

discreetly a breeze enters the room.

Then intermittent moments of calm.

Hands resting on knees.

Discreetly a breeze enters the room

passing like a glance over

hands resting on knees,

books in piles all around.

Passing like a glance over—

what is it you are thinking now?

Books in piles all around:

Walter Benjamin and Meister Eckhart.

What is it you are thinking now,

at this moment, in this room—

Walter Benjamin? Meister Eckhart?

The incense continues to burn.

At this moment, in this room,

there’s a vase of pussy willows behind your head.

The incense continues to burn,

but the candles remain unlit.

Yet even with pussy willows behind your head,

you seem sober, so absorbed.

The candles remain unlit

though the room grows dark.

You seem sober, so absorbed,

the stillness filling every corner

as the room grows dark

and I watch as if you were asleep.

The stillness filling every corner,

in the kitchen I put on water for tea

and watch as if you were asleep…

nothing but the sound of your heartbeat.

In the kitchen I put on water for tea,

aware of the echo each move makes.

Nothing but the sound of your heartbeat

like a shell bringing the ocean home.