We had been following spring rivers 
traveling between little rooms 
with yellow lights and small refrigerators 
I had been assembling rivers of my own  
out of spare parts none of them water  
apples and lacewings  antibodies  
on their way to a limited consciousness 
Evenings full of sleepers  each room  
with tics of things settling 
the drifting weight of the others  sighing 
Saying one thing meaning another  Sleep with me 
Despite some uncomfortable reminders 
Exits and Emergency Escapes posted on the walls  
I followed my words like light from crushed rock 
Later I will tell her what I heard of the lost hikers  
found praying to whiteness in the high Cascades 
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