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                      there they are – those feet –
                      up on the arm of the settee
                      one heel laying the foot along
                      (as far as a curve will allow)
                      the other pinioned above
                      hanging over the other’s arch
                      (exquisite close shadow)
                      curving vertical the sole almost
                      crease-free the big ole toe-pad
                      making a long curve 80º to the
                      arch, a pennant – a solitary bunt –
                      two toes tent pegs sticking up
                      (only one on the other foot)
                      two bubble toes (three) like buds
                      (smell relaxed and natural
                       when up close) …

                      … don’t even shift when the
                      door drifts slightly shut or the
                      plastic roof expands in the sun
                      and the roof-of-the-mouth-
                      breathing pauses … (held?) but
                      in the middle of silence and heat:
                      “wie viel Uhr ist es?” even though
                      she doesn’t naturally speak German
                      and neither do I understand
                      to reply





breathing wormhole: ‘when it came / time to go …’
C & conservatory wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
feet & silence wormhole: St. Ludwigskirche
love wormhole: they find their life growing together –
roof & shadow wormhole: still waving!
speech wormhole: a splash of fresh water
sun wormhole: the chiropodist
time wormhole: titanic