Why stronger? Why not butterfly wings and the silent bend of grass under flagstone

the restless hum of hearts, immortal longings

a child on a bicycle—prey to the wind

and his own whisper of a body, nubbin reflexes and the little legs pumping furiously

Why not a soft throat, the snap of stems, the soundless death of snow in heat

the quiet burden of roofs

every tear that drops, a line erased

Whatever does not kill me makes me stronger

Where is the beauty in that? The grace?

Even the hardest rock chips away at the sculptor’s hands, lives are

fashioned in yielding

the body flushing with fever, finest cracks in celadon

moments falling to a lover