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68 The Return when you cannot find the page to pick up where you left off when the match refuses to strike when two people who have known each other too long turn for the first time from their dreams of each other to each other it returns it often moves at dawn sliding beneath the doors like leaves unaware of the strength of its own limbs the incredible lock of its jaws the chill of its own breath hanging always like the body of air in the eye of a tunnel there was nothing it did not consume and nothing it did not replace though Mary and Paul were not so sure trying to put all their fingers on it at once noting that in the midst of differences all was the same it is here even now though receding its long tail growing thinner the eye in its tip looking up from the grass for the strange smile of someone completely alone 69 when the voices stop coming to terms when the wood won’t burn and the cold leans flat against your back with the face of midnight dark against the window when you cannot go on any longer when all is finally lost it returns ...

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