I study your sleeping form / at the bottom of the pool / like a house I could return to,
like a head to be cradled in the arms. / Unless you are asleep I cannot make my way / across the night / and through my isolation.
“Small wonder, then, that he took to inventing stories in which time had a geography, like an island, place moved like the hands of a clock, and point of view was a kind of punctuation. He assigned numbers and symbols to death, love, characters, unexpected developments, transitions, then submitted them to the rhythms of numerologies.”
Robert Coover