I found her by the pond, as useless a mermaid as any. Piecemeal I bound her: finger-bones to fiddle-pegs, breastbone to sound post. I strung my bow with her hair. The wedding-march has begun: all that remains is to hear her sing. Her sister must have missed her voice.
Dawn breaks over the city like an eggshell and for a moment the
languorous creaking machinery of humanity draws to a halt.
Veins of concrete;
Elevated trains; all
Recuse themselves from motion, a frozen
automaton one wind from sprung.
Now is poised between
exaltation. I open my hand.