i broke a mirror yesterday,
& counting down the hours
until the end of my bad luck
you would say, this
is only the beginning.

stood under the clocktower, waiting.

stranded in the hour i don't do more
than stare at the railroads which
run to some distant horizon.

& i stare & i stare
but i'm thinking
of you.

can't rid myself of this feeling
& i don't want you, i never have
but the signals mixed across the floor
& said to wear black dresses on saturdays
& attend the markets at the earliest hour
& strike off the places where we have met.

& you will always have eyes that examine,
eyes that never falter, that never know
how to dance across a face.