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Except that we had remained ordinary
In the wood
By the window
Watching the two,
Stilted figures
Discuss.

What passes between them
Is the last idolatry
Of one who can speak
To the one who responds.

In response, the one
Holding the other.

In response the one
Growing weaker
And the other
Growing gracious,
As if to show
Strength.

What is it to be ordinary?
In this light,
Which twitches on my
Throat.

To not come from one place
But go to another--

To come from a boiler-plate
Hot, charged by
Ether.