When we were in the ocean a long time waiting in the school of the lifeesque sun
There as an abstract silver quality not belonging to any frenzy or food
Later we stood up in a book with a simple surface And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying, and then a proliferation of forms, in and out of shadow
Some figures we would have preferred to reveal: The earth’s bowed edge, our special technique for going over
We were swimming downhill a long time thinking The cause can barely contain us
But instead of a thought there was bait lashing the waters behind
Instead of a line a trench of atoms, fastening these waters to these