| It felt more as a slowing
|
| A sudden nothing of velocity:
|
| Passing from air into water, into honey, into tar
|
| And breathing tar does strange things
|
| To one’s perception of time
|
| We breathed tar as only lovers breathe tar
|
| (Oh! Let our limits be smudges)
|
| (Let our convictions be gaseous and vague)
|
| Skinless others, oils on waters
|
| Walls made up of air, made of doldrums
|
| Made of hunger, made of Aether
|
| Made of hydrogen, made of pollen
|
| And made of exhale, made of exhale
|
| (Oh! Let our glances be fixless)
|
| (Let our motion be expansive and faint)
|
| We never could locate a skin or boundary
|
| There just ain’t nothing to press or be pressed by
|
| There was a momentary dip in the air pressure
|
| When passing from one body to its other
|
| One body to its other
|
| We had touched as only atmospheres touch
|
| We had touched as only atmospheres touch
|
| We had touched as only atmospheres touch
|
| We had touched as only atmospheres touch |