on thinking of you as i fell to restless sleep, & thinking of you still as i awoke

     
     
i stole away at dawn
to prepare great bowls
                of tea and oranges
from which we refill ourselves
to linger over names
and places yet unknown

those hands, this mouth
throw forms of clay across the earth
from the deep bosom of laughter

                                            hearts and bones
                                            aligned in length
                                            with one another