Like a floating Restlessness, alive & tender. So this: in the flat. Think of it as Salt— From stain, thin And papery, A splaying Open into Stars, she, skimming The sluices open, Quick & generous, Her dress hitched For give. What if the will were husk entirely, and the husk, breakable, were broken open, to where the seeds are? What then? It is as they Said it was: the plowman Sings of tether, So pure, so bare, so Detached, it is Not prior to Anything and Never no where Without. It is only that which Explodes In the mouth. You. Notes Stanza 6: from “North” by Carl Phillips in The Rest of Love. Stanza 9: a variation of Rilke’s line “And never Nowhere without the No” from “The Eighth Elegy,” translated by Stephen Mitchell.