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20 dO nOt Do not come for me with tributes of bread and tea. Do not, I ask politely, bring fist against my bolted door, call my name to raise me. Do not unfold your explanations of the night, petition my alliance or my company. Do not, for my own good, rouse me to clocks and mirrors. Please, too, refrain from custodial attentions—rechecking of outlets and bulbs, short broom to sweep my floor clean of what has fallen, pages of discarded news to polish windows. You are kind, let us assume, but I see well enough 21 the ceaseless day beyond curtained frame, unveiled when I choose. Here cool water in a pitcher, drawn before the crush of voices resumed. If you care for me, offer only your absence. ...

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